No Legacy So Rich
by Magier74
Summary: Someone takes something very important to Xanatos, and he wants it back. Xanatos/OC, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, Anakin, OC
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Sleeping like a baby …_

_A slight smile curved her lips as she studied the man sleeping beside her. He was lying stretched out on his stomach. Ebony hair spilled over broad, muscular shoulders, such a contrast against skin that was nearly as pale as alabaster. Her gaze continued its sweep down his back, stopped effectively by the sheet bunched low around his hips. This job was too easy, pleasant compared to the slobbering drunks and dirty old men she had been forced to seduce in the past._

_Mia shook her head, giving herself a reality check. There was nothing easy about this. Xanatos Marojni, the man sleeping beside her, was powerful and dangerous, she reminded herself. It was time to gather herself and get to work._

_She quietly slipped from the sleepcouch, picking up a discarded robe - his robe. Her senses were immediately infused with his clean, masculine scent as she pulled the soft silk around her body. She turned one last glance toward the sleeping man as she freed her waist length, dark hair from beneath the robe._

'_No entanglements, no desires, no feelings,' she said firmly in her mind. It was a motto that had served her well, but never before had it been so challenged._

_She began by rummaging through his belongings, careful to leave things looking untouched and to make as little noise a possible. The drug she had used would keep him out long enough for her to be back in bed beside him when he woke, but it was good to never take chances. With that thought, she retrieved a small blaster from her clutch and dropped it in the pocket of the robe. Finding nothing of consequence in Xanatos' belongings, she sat down at the data terminal, biting down on her lip. _

'_He's careful … and thorough,' she thought as she pulled up his notes on the week's activities and began to skim through them. He certainly had a lot of colorful things to say about her employer, Rilk Gaden, but there still seemed to be a complete lack of any Offworld records._

"_You won't find what you're looking for there."_

_The deep, sultry voice sent a chill down her spine. She looked up sharply, allowing a smile she didn't feel to spread across her face. How she reacted at the moment could truly mean the difference between life and death. "I was just checking some messages. I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your robe," she said, ignoring his previous remark._

_He sat up, reaching a hand across his chest to massage his neck. "You're a gifted liar, my dear."_

"_I don't what you're talking about," she said, feigning confusion. _

"_Enter code 136 on the terminal," he replied matter-of-factly._

_She hesitantly did as requested. Her breath caught in her throat as the screen danced to life with a collage of her past. He had everything - images of her on former jobs, records, aliases – everything. _

"_It makes me wonder how desperate Rilk Gaden is if he thinks I would be so gullible. Surely he knows me better from our past dealings. Does he not think I would research why Mycor Corporation fell, or Denzen Industries? It was only a matter of time before he took aim at Offworld." The grin that spread across Xanatos' face made her shudder. "His ideas for insider information are formidable. What better way to get to a man like me than through a beautiful woman?"_

_It was time to make an escape, she decided as she stood to her feet. She pulled the blaster she had concealed in the pocket of the robe and pointed it at him. "It appears the charade is up," she said._

"_Apparently." He shrugged; looking not even the slightest bit unnerved at having a weapon aimed him. A slight lift of his hand, and before she could react, the blaster was ripped from her grip and floated to him. "If you had been a little more thorough in your background search, you might have found that I am Force-sensitive and trained in the Jedi arts. I was expelled from the Order, of course. Somehow, I just didn't fit in there."_

_She felt an invisible grip begin to close around her throat, tight enough to nearly induce panic, but not enough to completely block her breathing. He was toying with her. Instinct told her that if he wanted her dead she would already be dead. If she remained calm, she might think of a way out of this, though none came to mind at the moment. "I drugged you," she gasped out as she sunk down to sit on the floor and leaned against the wall._

"_Did you ever see me actually drink from my glass?"_

"_No," she whispered. He had walked out on the balcony, where he could have casually discarded the contents of his glass. She had been careless and overconfident to let him out of her sight. _

"_Then, why did you play along? Why am I still alive? Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Marojni, and you aren't known for your mercy."_

_He cocked his head to the side, smiling at her blunt assertion. She felt the grip on her throat loosen and greedily sucked in air. _

"_Have a seat."_

_She quickly returned to the chair at the data terminal as he got up from the bed. He walked to the closet where he pulled out another robe and slipped it on. _

"_As you can see, I have done my homework on you." He removed two glasses from a nearby cabinet and filled them with a richly colored liquor. "I have learned that you are intelligent, cunning, competent … rare qualities … believe me, I know." He handed her one of the glasses. "A toast?"_

"_To what?" she asked, accepting the glass._

"_Our new partnership, of course."_

"_I never agreed to any partnership … I won't …"_

_He put a finger to her lip, the warning that flashed through those mysterious eyes effectively silencing her. "It would be a waste of great potential if you were to simply disappear," he said as he pulled his finger away and sat down on the edge of the desk. "I'll pay twice what Gaden pays you and offer you a position more deserving of your mind."_

_She dropped her head down to hide her eyes, afraid she would look a little too eager. It was freedom from Gaden that she craved more than anything._

"_How do you know you can trust me?" She stood, confident she could match his game. Bringing her lips nearly to his, she trailed a finger down his cheek. "I just tried to seduce and drug you in the name of corporate espionage."_

_He firmly pushed her back down into the chair, completely unfazed by the charm that had earlier seemed to have him eating out of her hand. "You will prove you are trustworthy by helping me bring Gaden down."_

"_I'm listening."_

"_We continue with the charade for this week. You let him think you are getting closer to me. I will feed you false information that should lead him to some quite devastating decisions." He leaned toward her, delight lighting up his face. "It will be sweet revenge for us both."_

"_Both?" she questioned, half afraid to find out what more he knew about her._

"_I know you're being blackmailed into working for him, and that this isn't the kind of life you wanted. I assure you, I can make the incident on Prios IV disappear. And after we are done with Gaden, he won't come after you."_

_Mia downed the remaining contents of her glass in one gulp and stood up. "I need to think this through." She stumbled toward the balcony in hasty retreat. Her gut told her she was exchanging one form of servitude for another, but it equally told her that Gaden was going down and that she would sink with him if she didn't help Xanatos. She dropped her face into her hands, alarmed when she suddenly felt the warmth of lips against her neck. Though part of her wanted to give in, she wrenched herself away. He caught her and pulled her back against his body._

"_I guess I will be your perk in this arrangement," she spat out bitterly. Men were all the same._

_He rested his lips against her ear. "I don't intend to use you in that way," he said softly. "I sense your shame and all the barriers you have built to protect yourself. No entanglements, no desires, no feelings … isn't that true?"_

_It bothered her deeply that he seemed to know so much about her, and so much about that which she had always kept to herself._

"_I wonder," he continued in a soothing, silky voice. "When was the last time you let yourself just be a woman? Not a toy or a tool to be used. Just a woman?"_

_Despite her resolve to hold herself together, she felt betraying tears seep from the corners of her eyes. The very idea of just being a woman seemed foreign anymore. "I sense that I have awakened something in you," he said as he reached out to gently wipe the tears away. He leaned in to kiss her. She pulled away, and this time he let her go._

"_I am hardly thinking clearly enough to …"_

"_You're right," he interrupted. "I wouldn't make such life changing decisions under duress, why should I expect it of you?" He swept her discarded clothing off the floor, and shoved it into her arms. "Tomorrow … evening meal at 1800 … we will start over fresh."_

_She quickly dressed, aware of how he looked at her. It wasn't with the same disgustingly lustful gawking that Gaden subjected her to, but with the appreciation and respect of someone admiring fine art._

_He finished off the last of his glass of wine as he showed her to the door. "Wear something that complements your beauty. I want Gaden to remember you stunning and willingly on my arm when I send his world crashing in on him." _

_The door closed behind her and she looked back as she wandered toward her own room. A verbal warning had not been necessary. Like she had said, the leader of Offworld's reputation preceded him. He would know if she ran back to Gaden, and he also knew she had no intention of doing so._

_The last few minutes had been a blur. He had played expertly on her emotions, offering all she wanted in exchange for everything. She had, in fact, fallen into a trap similar to the one she had set. She had been seduced, and somehow, she found she didn't care._

The knock at the door was quiet, but firm. Mia turned off the water, grabbing a dish towel to wipe off wet, dripping hands as she quickly made her way to the front door. She stopped briefly at a mirror to straighten chin-length, auburn hair and to make sure her bathrobe covered her completely. It was embarrassing to be caught still washing breakfast dishes at this time of the morning, but it seemed she was starting off more slowly and with less energy these days. She frowned at her reflection. So this is what she had come to, paler than should be skin and dark circles under dull eyes. She could remember a time when she had turned the heads of many eligible bachelors, when not a hair was out of place, and she had dressed in the finest silks. With just a stroke of a perfectly manicured finger down a man's cheek, she could have persuaded him to promise her the world. She laughed at her musings. That seemed like another lifetime. Did it really matter how she looked now? It was probably just a neighbor at the door. Without a second thought she answered the knock.

The man at the door filled the frame in height as well a presence. He seemed to suck the air from the room. She struggled to breathe, drowning in disbelief, and began to back away, a sob lodged in her throat as she shook her head in denial.

"Aren't you going to invite me in, Mia?" Xanatos said quietly. His face was calm, lacking any of the anger she expected to see there. "Your neighbors are starting to stare."

He made no move to enter until she nodded, numb, unable to speak. He smiled and swept into the room, closing the door behind him. The sound of the lock latching echoed through her form. She felt her knees grow weak as her heart began to pound wildly in her chest.

He had found her.


	2. Chapter 2

Incognito12 – Maybe ;)

Sterling5842 – Thanks for giving it a look again. I am easing back into writing after a break to finish grad school. I went back and caught up on my stories and just couldn't let this characters go.

Valairy – Hi. Sent you a PM. I was surprised when I went to tfn to start trying to dig some of my stories out of moth balls, so resuming over here.

**Chapter 2**

_Mia drummed her fingers along the surface of the bar, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the glossy surface. Like everything else in the club, it was elegant to the last detail, and on a new level of opulence from anything she had previously seen. She took a sip of her drink, swirling the fine liquor in its heavy crystal glass. To be honest, she felt entirely out of place. In her line of work she had been wined and dined in style, but never been privy to an establishment of this level of exclusivity. Her involvement with Xanatos Marojni over the past two weeks had whisked her into a new echelon in society, and it had come at a cost. She had found herself at Xanatos' beck and call, and constantly watched. Even now a guard was not far, for her protection, of course._

_She had received a simple message attached to a parcel earlier in the day. The message said only to meet him at the Medallion Club for evening meal and to look her best. She had fulfilled that request, she mused, as she caught her reflection again. Her hair was caught high upon her head with an ornate clip, dark ringlets cascading down her long, slender neck. She wore a low cut gown of deep blue shimmersilk that clung to her curves. A jeweled necklace and earrings, provided in the parcel, accented her look. She was smugly satisfied that she had managed to turn the head of nearly every man she had encountered that evening. Even Xanatos himself, was genuinely impressed. The meal had been quick, Xanatos barely saying anything before he was whisked to the upper floors of the club in a lift, leaving her to wait for the last four hours. She didn't dare leave._

_Hands were suddenly on her shoulders, warm breath against her ear. She gasped, startled, calming when she heard Xanatos' voice. "You're not watching your back, my dear. I would have expected a shiv in my throat for sneaking up on you like that." Xanatos said softly. "It's not that it's a bad thing. I want you to feel safe."_

"_You certainly took your time," she said, making her irritation evident._

"_I apologize. The meeting dragged on longer than expected. Come."_

_He offered her his hand, then wrapped her arm around his and escorted her out to a waiting private aircab. Once the vehicle had taken off, he settled back into the seat and spoke. "Our efforts have paid off," he said with pride. "Gaden's empire is collapsing, and being sold off to the highest bidder."_

_Several prominent businessmen had ascended the same elevator with Xanatos, and she had a pretty good idea what happened up there. The corporate map of this sector of the galaxy had been redrawn._

"_So, that's what the meeting was about tonight. The smell of blood, and you were all closing in for the kill."_

"_I managed to come away with Gaden's operations on Jasca. It is a lucrative enough purchase to make up for what Offworld lost on Bandomeer."_

_She looked out as the aircab passed through busy thoroughfares wondering, as she had many times in the last few days, what this meant for her life. Was her time as a pawn over? _

"_So, have I proved my loyalty to you?" she asked._

"_More than sufficiently," he said. "This would not have been possible without your help."_

"_So, what now?"_

_He leaned forward, assuming a more business-like tone. "I would like for you to come onboard with Offworld as my personal assistant. The one who was serving in that role served my father before me and was due his retirement. I have not yet found a satisfactory replacement. It would involve travel, as you would accompany me on business related trips. Obviously, there would be responsibilities with scheduling and various errands." He handed her a datapad. "This is the compensation. It is negotiable, but I think you will find it generous."_

"_It is," she said as the aircab came to a stop at the private entrance on the upper levels of their hotel._

_She carefully thought over her options as he led her through the hallways. They stopped outside his suite._

"_Join me for a drink. We can talk more," he said._

_Once inside, he poured them both a drink before taking a seat on the sofa next to her. "You bring the added benefit of knowing the players in this world. I will count on you to filter through only those deserving of my time and attention. At times I will call upon you to represent me personally, as well._

_She took a sip of her drink. In reality, she didn't need to give it much thought. Offers like this did not come along every day. It was the strings she knew were attached to the deal that bothered her._

"_I will need to go settle my affairs before joining you on Telos. I have a flat, possessions, bills, and obligations …"_

"_Done," he replied confidently._

"_What?"_

"_I sent someone to settle your affairs. Gaden no doubt knows you have betrayed him, and it is not safe for you to return to where you used to live. My personal accountant, with the proper identifiers, can transfer your accounts to Telos."_

"_Usually when someone meddles in another's personal affairs, they have the common decency to ask consent," she said angrily._

"_I like to take care of what I value."_

"_There's a difference between caring and suffocating," she bit back. "I need to go."_

"_Stay," he demanded as she approached the door. It was spoken in the tone of one accustomed to having his way, and effectively stopped her. "Please stay," he repeated in a softer voice, approaching her from behind._

_She felt her anger bleed away, his very presence exuding some sort of calm over her. The thought of another night in his arms replaced the hostility as those arms encircled her. "I want you to stay," he whispered into her ear. _

_He began to lay light kisses down her neck, and she felt the clip that held her hair up move. Her long hair fell down her back. He began to comb through the sleek locks with his fingers, murmuring, "so soft."_

"_I need more autonomy if this is going to work." She stepped away, trying to think through the fog of her emotions and desires. "I feel like your prisoner, watched, followed."_

"_I am only trying to protect you." He paused, deciding if he should continue. "Gaden already has quite a high bounty on your head."_

_She turned to face him, covering her mouth with a trembling hand._

"_Don't worry. You're safe," he soothed._

_He ran his fingers down her cheek, pulling her hand away from her face before covering her lips with his own. His hand trailed through her hair, stroking down her neck, and coming to the small of her back as he drew her closer to him and continued to kiss her. It was too much for Mia to think that he actually had feelings for her. More likely, he felt that she now belonged to him. But having his entire focus on her was intoxicating._

Xanatos stalked towards her, backing her to the wall as he studied her intently. He reached out and gently fingered the hair framing her face.

"You cut it," he said with a hint of disappointment. "But, I like the new color." Gentle fingers caressed her face, despite the harsh tone of his voice. "Did you really think merely changing your physical appearance would hide you. I can sense you, feel your presence, Mia."

"How … how …"

"Did I find you?" He completed the question. "You are intelligent. Remember, I said that it is one of your more admirable qualities. I missed you by mere days in the last place. You obviously grew careless this time." He resumed teasing the wavy locks framing her paling face. "Maybe it was this neighborhood. It seems pleasant and peaceful. You shouldn't get attached when you are on the run, my dear."

He drew her chin up and touched his lips to hers. As he deepened his kiss, she found she could only move her mouth against his. He pressed his body closer, pinning her against the wall. As their passions flared, it was easy to forget why she had run and most importantly, the danger she was in even at the very moment.

He broke off his kiss and she licked her lips, still trying to catch her breath, still teetering on the edge of panic.

"Have I ever laid a hand on you or hurt you in any way?"

She shook her head, unable to speak as tears let loose and began to trail down her cheeks. He had never physically hurt her, though she had seen what he was capable of with her own eyes.

"Then why are you consumed with such fear of me?"

"I know… I know how you handle betrayal," she answered.

A sneer stretched across his features, and his voice took on a more dangerous edge. "Then you are fortunate I have always been weak when it comes to you." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Don't forget that," he said sharply. "You won't get another chance. Now, get your fear under control," Xanatos whispered. "He can sense it. You're upsetting him."

She looked over Xanatos' shoulder, catching sight of the toddler that had wandered into the room. With raven hair and bright blue eyes, he was the perfect image of his father. The boy's lips trembled, and he clutched tightly to a well-loved blanket that trailed on the floor behind him. "Mama?" he questioned. He started for his mother, eyeing Xanatos warily, and clutched onto her robe.

"When did he start walking?" Xanatos asked in a voice thick with emotion.

"About a month ago," she replied, doing her best to compose herself. Xanatos was right. When she was calm, Crion was calm. When she was afraid, Crion was terrified. "He was wobbly away from the furniture at first."

"I think you should introduce us, Mia. I doubt he remembers me," Xanatos said as he kneeled down.

She took a deep breath and settled down on the floor next to her son. The boy quickly scrambled into her lap.

"Crion, this is your daddy."

She had taken off with her son … his son … four months earlier, and had no doubt that Xanatos had torn the galaxy apart looking for them. Crion was his pride and joy, named proudly after his father, something he considered worthy to be his legacy.

The boy buried his head into her chest. She watched as Xanatos closed his eyes. Crion suddenly turned and looked at his father, a slight giggle escaping him, perhaps a spark of recognition.

Mia didn't understand the mystical nature of the Force, but she knew that Xanatos and his son shared something she had no comprehension of, and that was what scared her more than anything.

As Crion took a hesitant step toward his father, Mia began to feel faint. "Not now," she whispered. The room began to spin, the task of holding of her eyelids up suddenly feeling impossible, and she felt cold, so cold. Xanatos' eyes snapped up to meet hers. She saw him move, but slumped to the ground before he could reach her and break her fall. Crion began to cry.

"Where's your medication?"

She vaguely wondered about the obvious affection and concern she heard in his voice as she whispered," kitchen counter," before everything blacked out.


	3. Chapter 3

Jacen200015 – Thanks for finding the story again over here.

I am going to post both chapter 3 and chapter 4 as I was wrapping up the school year, giving my students evil final exams, and all those other teacher things. For those of you wondering, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, and Anakin will make an appearance and become an important part of this story, I just need to devote a couple more posts to Xanatos and Mia's background.

**Chapter 3**

_The lights in his office – the private office that adjoined his sleeping chamber – were turned down low. Shadows danced against the wall. The dim, gentle light helped to soothe the ache that had set into his head as did the rich liquor that burned a path down the back of his throat._

"_How did it go?"_

_He turned toward the voice, having felt her presence long before she spoke. Long hair, slightly tousled by sleep, fell freely down her back. A black silk gown hung loosely on her shoulders, caressing the curves of her body. She was a welcome, alluring sight after such a long trip, and his eyes drank her in._

"_They are going to need more incentive, but at least the meetings weren't a complete waste of time." He took her hand as she came closer and pulled her into his lap. A purr rumbled in his chest at the feel of her warm body next to him once again. "Sorry to wake you," he said before claiming her lips._

_Xanatos was always at war with himself when it came to Mia. The shrewd, ever cautious part of him that had served him well for most his life cursed him for getting too involved and allowing her to become an integral part of his life. Feelings were foolish and trusting her would only lead to trouble. But the part of him that looked out and saw only a future of continued solitude, alone in his sprawling estate welcomed her. It was that side of him that wanted to hold onto her and never let her out of his sight._

"_How have things been here?" he asked. "Have you had any difficulty with the staff?"_

"_No," she answered._

"_That's good."_

_It was a practical concern. Mia was his lover, not a wife, but he still wanted his staff to treat her with respect, as though she had every right to be there. He had offered her a room in his estate, but to his knowledge, she had never slept there. It had come as no surprise to find her in his private quarters when he returned. And now it was time to address what he had heard since leaving._

"_Soren told me that you saw a doctor recently," he said gently. He tried to infuse his voice with concern, but felt certain a rebuke would come._

_Mia stiffened, pulling away from him as much as his arms would allow. "Why is it so hard for you to simply ask how I am doing?" she asked. "It seems you already know I am going to tell you something before I can get the words out of my mouth."_

"_I'm sorry." He pulled her close again. "I am a man who is accustomed to trusting no one. Every time I do, I pay a price. Old habits are hard to break." Running his thumb down the side of her cheek, he pressed a kiss to her head. "I just want to know if you are well." _

_He sensed rising apprehension and uncertainty, and began to fear the worst. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I'm pregnant. The baby is yours, of course," she hurriedly added._

_Stunned into silence, he allowed her words to sink in for a moment before forming a response. "Why so much unease over carrying my child?"_

"_We haven't been together very long. I haven't been sure how you would react, and …"_

"_Do I strike you as the kind of man who would cast his child, and the mother of that child, out on the street?"_

"_No," she said softly. "It would just be very easy for a man like you – wealthy, powerful - who has much to lose and doesn't easily trust to see this as a ploy."_

"_You have nothing to worry about." He reached down, his hand settling on her abdomen. "This is a gift, not a curse." He helped her to her feet before getting up from his chair. "But, you need your rest, now."_

_He led her into the room they shared and settled into bed next to her. As they both drifted off to sleep, his mind tried to wrap itself around the idea of fatherhood. It was something he never thought would happen to him. Soon he would have a daughter or a son. A daughter - he imagined a little girl as beautiful and intelligent as her mother. He, of course, would never let a man near her, and would have to protect her and teach her to defend herself. The galaxy was a treacherous place. Or a son - an heir to survive him and carry on his family name. He would teach that son everything he knew._

"Crion," Rena called in a soft, friendly voice.

Xanatos resisted a smirk at the distress that rested just beneath the surface of her charming, amicable façade. The young woman was quickly losing her patience.

"Come out," she called in a sing-song voice. "Play time is over."

She turned, freezing at the sight of her employer leaning in the doorframe.

"Sir?" she said quickly, bowing her head.

"I was hoping to see my son," Xanatos said.

"He's hiding somewhere in this room. He isn't fond of napping." She sighed in exasperation, her panic multiplying at the thought of having to explain how she had lost the boy. "I know he is still in the room."

"Of course he is, and we will find him," Xanatos assured her. "Talk with me for a moment. How is Crion adjusting to being back home? Be honest."

"He is adjusting fine, although he tends to be a bit stubborn and strong-willed," she said hesitantly. "He asks about his mother quite a bit.

"Is he seeing enough of Mia?"

"As much as her doctor will allow, Sir." Rena bowed her head before adding, "I don't think it is enough though."

Mia's pregnancy had quickly become an exercise in keeping both mother and child alive. Crion had been born healthy and strong. Mia, however, had grown weaker with each passing day. They had nearly lost her during delivery. When she continued to remain frail even months after Crion's birth, the doctors had begun looking for an explanation. A month later, Mia was diagnosed with Nowat syndrome, a rare, debilitating disease. While there were drugs that could slow the progress of the disease and treat the symptoms, the outcome was inevitable. Mia was dying, which made her decision to run and chance leaving Crion an orphan all the more puzzling to Xanatos.

"I am between meetings. Take a break. I will find him and put him down for a nap," Xanatos said confidently. "I will call you when he is asleep."

"Are you sure?" Rena asked, failing to hide her surprise. "He can be a bit … difficult."

"I'll be fine," Xanatos assured her. "I need to take a more active role in his life."

"As you wish, Sir."

She bowed and exited. Xanatos surveyed the room. There was no visible sign of little Crion; he was well hidden. Fortunately, Xanatos could observe the room with a second sight and quickly sensed where the boy was tucked away in an empty cabinet.

"I am not one of your caregivers, Crion," he called. "And you aren't old enough to know how to shield yet. You can't hide from me."

Silence.

He kneeled down next to the cabinet and quickly opened the door. The child inside squealed loudly, squirming and kicking his feet as Xanatos reached in to try to grab him.

"Come on. Nap time, Crion," Xanatos grunted, trying to avoid being kicked.

"No." Crion jutted out his bottom lip in a scowl. "No nap."

"Yes, it is nap time."

Xanatos scooped up his son, carrying the thrashing child to the crib. "Noooo!"

"Yes," Xanatos replied firmly as he deposited the boy in the crib, thankful there were bars.

He looked down at his clothes, aware of the large wet spots where his son had slobbered on him. Grabbing a nearby blanket, he blotted the damp silk. He was going to have to change before his next meeting.

He looked up in time to see Crion standing, one leg slung over the side of the crib.

"Oh, no you don't," he scolded. Crion shrieked as Xanatos approached. The boy began to run in circles in the confined space before stopping to face his father.

"No nap!"

Xanatos leaned against the railing, easily imagining himself being as difficult as a child. He had heard stories. "You've made your wishes abundantly clear," he said, wondering why he was even trying to reason with a toddler. "But, I'm your father, and it is nap time."

"Dee," the boy said, directing a chubby finger across the room.

"I suppose I should know what 'dee' is," Xanatos mused, looking in the indicated direction.

A large pile of stuffed animals rested on the floor. He scooped one up and presented it to the boy. "No!" Crion scowled before grabbing and throwing the toy. "Dee," he insisted.

Xanatos tried a second animal, only to have it rejected as well. He let out a sigh before a worn, blue blanket caught his eye. It was the one Crion had held onto for the entire trip back to Telos. He grabbed the shabby blanket, hoping this would please the boy.

"Dee!" Crion giggled, grabbing the treasure eagerly. "Dee … dee … dee."

"I'm glad."

"Da," Crion said, pointing at him.

"Yes," Xanatos confirmed, a strange giddiness filling him at the small term of endearment.

"Mama?"

"Mommy is taking a nap. And you should as well," Xanatos suggested.

"No nap."

"Yes, you've said that already."

Xanatos placed a hand on his son's forehead, sending out a light pulse through the Force. Bright blue eyes widened, staring intently up a Xanatos. Even at such a young age, Crion seemed to know that he shared something with his father that he shared with no one else. The bond had been rapidly strengthening before Mia had run.

"It's time to sleep," Xanatos said, delivering a Force suggestion.

The boy slumped over. Xanatos laid him down gently, tucking thick blankets around him. It was cheating, he knew that, but it was his right as a father. Even when Crion was a small baby, the caregivers had been baffled at how one who obviously knew so little about children could calm his son almost instantly and always get him to sleep.

He brushed a stray raven lock from Crion's forehead, smiling. "Yes, Crion. Now that I have you back, I will teach you everything I know," he whispered.

A frown replaced his smile. He had avoided seeing Mia for days, afraid of being unable to control his hurt and anger. But now the questions he had were burning a hole in his heart, and he could no longer wait. He needed to know why she had taken his son away from him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Xanatos and Mia stood waiting outside an upscale restaurant in Moyc, the capital city of Konar. The banquet, hosted by the Minister of Commerce, had been the culmination of three days of conference between the companies involved in mining operations on the planet. But, the evening had been cut short and they were leaving early. _

"_Are you feeling any better?" Xanatos asked._

"_The fresh air is helping," Mia answered._

"_Holn could be a while with the speeder, and I don't want to stand here idly. Are you up for a walk? From the balcony earlier, I saw a garden at the back corner of the building. It looked beautiful."_

_She nodded, taking his arm as they started down a stone path. The banquet room had been stifling, and she had fought against the feeling of everything and everyone closing in on her all evening. In contrast, the cool night air was refreshing against her flushed face. She did wish that Xanatos would address why they were leaving early. Her stomach was tied up in knots waiting for him to say something. _

"_I don't know what happened," she said, finally taking the initiative. "I think one of the smells got to me or something."_

"_Konari food is quite pungent. I know it's not one of my favorites." Xanatos took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. "Don't worry," he assured her. "It's to be expected. You are still only eleven weeks along."_

_She hated how her body was betraying her. Foods that used to be her favorites had been barely tolerable for weeks now. Used to keeping an active schedule, she had found herself tired more often than not. And for reasons she was unable to understand, she felt vulnerable and needy in a way she never before had as motherhood loomed before her. _

_Xanatos, on the other hand, was adjusting to the idea of fatherhood very well, especially since early genetic tests had revealed that the baby was a boy. As a powerful man with many enemies, he felt it wise to hold off as long as possible on making any announcements. Only the closest of staff was aware that Mia was expecting. And of course, Xanatos seemed completely aware of her struggles. He had been gentle, patient, and more than happy to 'take care' of her. He had cut back on her work hours, something they had argued over for days. Attending the conference on Konar had been her chance to prove that she could still keep up, and she had been able to for the most part. That was until the banquet._

_They found the garden, and as promised, it was beautiful. A pond with small fish was surrounded by tall flowering bushes. Moonlight reflected off the surface of the pond giving it a golden glow, and the soft sound of rippling waters was soothing. She suddenly questioned Xanatos' motives in leading her here. They had been quarreling quite often over the past few weeks, and this was the perfect romantic setting to sweep her off her feet yet again, and make her forget. He was good at that._

"_At least I made it to the refresher in time to maintain my dignity," she mused out loud._

"_I don't understand why you are torturing yourself," he said._

"_I feel bad for ruining the evening," she admitted._

"_For ruining it? I would say that you saved it." Xanatos let out a low chuckle as he ran fingers down the side of her face. "I had finished the business I needed to conduct, and all that was left for us to look forward to was a long night of dreary conversation and drunken businessmen making improper advances toward you. You probably saved me from drinking too much myself, and deeply offending someone." _

_She turned away, trying to keep a straight face as she fingered the delicate petals on a nearby bloom. But she didn't know why she bothered. As with everything, he already knew that she found his reflection on the evening amusing. She thought of a fitting retort and began to respond, aware that she was engaging in shameless flirting with someone with which she was supposedly angry. _

_Xanatos was no longer there. He stood at the edge of the water with his back to her. As she approached, she noticed that his gaze had grown stern. His eyes were focused as though he was looking at something in the distance beyond her line of sight._

"_Holn," he whispered into his comlink. "Do you copy? Holn?"_

_There was no answer. Xanatos turned and flashed a smile at her. It was fake. Something was wrong. "Let's go back to the entrance," he suggested. "Holn should be there by now."_

_He kept a sharp watch, leaving none of their surroundings uncovered by his sweeping gaze as they walked back toward the restaurant. The fact that he always seemed to know things before she did, before they even happened, left Mia feeling anxious. Before she even heard the first blaster shot, Xanatos had pushed her to the ground and shielded her with his body. The blaster shot skimmed safely over them. Xanatos quickly pulled her to her feet, avoiding another shot, and then he pushed her toward the back corner of the building. There was a small alcove. It didn't provide much protection, but Xanatos seemed pleased._

"_Stay down," he hissed as blaster fire came from two more directions and hit the outside wall._

"_What's happening? Be honest."_

"_Holn is dead. I sense the presences of six assailants – two on top of the building, two east, two west." He motioned with his hands as he spoke. "They are closing in around us, but it's nothing to worry about as long as you stay put." He turned to leave._

"_Where are you going?" she nearly shrieked._

"_They are about to learn a lesson about picking a fight with the wrong person."_

_The tone of his voice chilled her to her bones. As he stepped away from her hiding spot, she saw him pull a silver cylinder from his coat right before the sky around him erupted in blaster fire. She quickly squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he really knew what he was doing. The whine of blaster fire whizzing through the sky continued, but she also heard something different. It was a low hum, maybe more shrill and screeching at times. She risked peeking. _

_Xanatos held a red beam of light in his hand. The glow bathed him in crimson as he moved with the elegant steps of a dancer. She sat transfixed as blaster bolts seemed to near and then flee from him, or rather the crimson arc that spun around him. His rage darkened eyes were focused, and he moved with the stealth of a predator, like an animal driven by instinct, seeming to know where each shot was before it came. _

_One man fell to his death from the roof in a cry of agony. The second was silent, already lifeless as he hit the ground. Those remaining converged on Xanatos. A raised hand sent one flying though the air. The sickening crack and thud as the assailant's body hit the wall indicated he wouldn't get up again. Another lunged forward and was impaled, his body nearly severed in half as it fell from the steaming blade. If her stomach hadn't already been empty, Mia probably would have vomited at the sight of entrails and blood spilt on the blanket of grass. The two remaining seemed to come to their senses and turned to run. They were suddenly frozen in place like statues._

"_Who sent you?" Xanatos demanded coldly, as he walked between them, his hand outstretched._

"_I … I don't know," one said, his voice quivering with tremendous fear._

"_I was just given a secondhand order," the other pleaded._

_Xanatos studied the second before closing his fist. The man's eyes widened before he dropped to his knees, clutching at his throat. He tried to beg and plead, but no sound came out, only gurgling noises as he writhed on the ground. A blue tone claimed his skin before his body finally fell limp, fear still captured in his lifeless eyes._

"_Take that as an example and a warning." Xanatos allowed the one remaining assailant to fall to the ground. "I suggest you talk."_

"_I don't know …"_

"_Don't lie to me!" Xanatos yelled, lips pulling back from his teeth as fire flashed in his eyes. Mia had never before seen him this angry. It changed him. It was as though she barely knew the man standing there._

_She watched as Xanatos drove the light sword into the man's shoulder, cutting through body armor with ease. The man let out a shrill cry of pain. _

"_You're just going to kill me!"_

"_Probably." Xanatos wiggled the hilt of the blade, widening the wound. Mia shuddered as the assailant shrieked. "The question is how much pain I can cause before you die. That all depends on how pleased I am with your answers."_

"_Go to hell!"_

_Xanatos quickly withdrew the blade before sinking it into the other shoulder. "A name is all I need." _

_As the silence stretched on, Xanatos began to drag his blade slowly through flesh. Mia cupped hands over her ears, trying to drown out the cries for mercy. _

"_Gaden! His name was Rilk Gaden. I was to kill you and bring the woman to a rendezvous point at the mines just outside Moyc."_

_One final swing of the blade ended the man's wretched existence, and then the blade vanished into darkness. Mia couldn't see Xanatos anymore, but heard his voice as he walked toward her. _

"_Soren, do you copy. Holn is dead. I need a speeder to pick us up at the restaurant and take us to the hangar."_

_He extended a blood splattered hand toward her as he closed off the transmission. She took it, trying not to tremble at the rage that still clouded his eyes. He said nothing, even after Soren arrived. The trip to the hangar was made in equal silence, Xanatos' face cut into a distant, emotionless mask. _

_Xanatos boarded their vessel first, making a complete sweep. When he was satisfied it was safe, he finally spoke to Soren. "Leave now. Take Mia back to Telos." _

"_Aren't you coming?" she asked._

"_I have some unfinished business with Rilk Gaden," Xanatos said, with eerie coldness. He stroked her face gently before resting a hand on her abdomen. "But first, I need to know that you are both safely on your way home."_

Mia was curled up on a lounge chair, basking in the warm sunlight that shone down on her balcony. She pretended not to notice when Xanatos came in, not even looking back to see who had arrived. He waited for a moment before exhaling an audible sigh to signal he wasn't leaving.

"Can't I have one moment's peace, Doctor?" she snapped angrily. "I'm not in the mood for any more tests right now."

"I'm not here for tests," Xanatos said softly.

Mia turned sharply. From across the room, the instruments that remotely monitored her heart rate and breathing began to beep urgently. Xanatos didn't need them to determine she was nervous. And he knew if he didn't set her at ease, she would disturb Crion.

"I am not sure why you continue to fear me," he said, allowing his frustration at her behavior to color his voice. "I am not here to harm you."

It had all started with Konar, when he had tapped heavily into the Dark side for the power to make certain Rilk Gaden was no longer a threat. Xanatos knew that Mia had once felt love for him. It was what had allowed her to overlook his minor transgressions even when they infuriated her. Since that night she had stepped carefully around him, afraid of awakening what she had witnessed once again. The fear at times seemed to irrationally consume her.

Mia stood to face him, and he sensed dizziness wash over her. He reached out to help her sit back down to the chair. She was exhausted. It was still was not yet noon, and it alarmed him that she seemed already depleted of energy.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, resting?"

Icy venom filled her gaze before she slumped back down to her chair, defeated.

"Do you know what I am, Xanatos?"

"A damn stubborn woman, who needs someone to care for her, but for reasons beyond my comprehension thought she could make it on her own?"

"I'm a glass doll that you keep in a case away from everyone and everything. You see me as fragile and are afraid that I will shatter if allowed to come out my case."

"You nearly did 'shatter'. Do you even realize how worn down your body was when I found you?"

"I haven't seen Crion for more than an hour a day since returning," she snapped, ignoring him.

"That's more than I've seen him over the last four months," he bit back angrily.

He clenched his fists, feeling a tremble overtake him as he reigned in his own emotions. He couldn't afford to scare her off. There were questions he needed answers to. "I knew things between us weren't great, but I thought we were better off than this," he said more softly. "Why? Why did you take him from me?"

She didn't answer at first. He thought the wait would kill him. Then she finally said, "I don't want him to become like you."

"And your life has been such a stunning example that you can take the moral high ground with me?" he bit back immediately.

"You know what I mean," she said softly. "I can't forget what I saw …"

"I did what I had to in order to protect you and Crion. As far as my giftings, the Force is part of who I am, and part of who Crion is. As much as you seem to abhor the idea, he must be taught to master who he is or it will control him. Trust me, I know."

She closed her eyes and ran a hand down her face. "I am tired. Perhaps you're right. I should lie down."

She stood, shaky on her feet. Xanatos reached for her, and she pushed his hands away.

"Let me help, Mia," he said forcefully.

She finally took his hand and he guided her to the sleep couch, pulling the covers up around her. He sat and watched as she quickly fell into a deep sleep, then left. As he closed the door behind him, Mia's doctor was standing, watching through a one-way mirror.

"How is she really?" Xanatos asked.

"She is back on steady medications, but I would have expected her strength to be back by now. Is it possible she is faking her fatigue?"

"No, I would sense it," Xanatos said. Her exhaustion is very real. "Did you do as I asked?"

"Yes, the chip was implanted at the nape of his neck, just beneath the skin. We won't have infinite tracking abilities, but Crion will be easier to locate. What makes you so certain she will try to run again as weak as she is?"

"I know Mia.," Xanatos replied confidently. There was no more explanation needed. "She won't try as long as I am here, but we will need to enhance security before I have to travel again."


	5. Chapter 5

Incognito12 – Well, now we know why Mia was on the run.

sterling5842 – Yes, I wouldn't mess with Xan. It is really sad that he loves her, but doesn't really know how to love her. The only way he knows how to show he cares is to control her, something she doesn't take kindly to.

**Chapter 5**

_It was time._

_The past weeks had been spent forcing herself to stay awake at night so that her daytime fatigue would be real, and Xanatos would consider her weaker than she really was. He had left on business three days ago, and Mia had waited, not making her move immediately. It was her hope that days without incident would lull household security into letting their guard down. Now all that remained was a world of "ifs"._

_If she could get outside the estate walls – she was accomplished with a blaster, but Xanatos' security was very well trained. It was her hope that they would be under orders not to use force for fear of harming Crion. It was an awful feeling knowing that her son would be her shield, but she had little choice. She wouldn't allow Xanatos to be the lone voice in her son's upbringing after she was gone. _

_If the speeder and ship were waiting as promised by an outside contact – it had been difficult to evade Xanatos' communications net and make contact with her former life, but she had paid well to have transportation waiting._

_If Crion had not been moved – her plan left little room for error, and precious time could be wasted if she had to search for her son. It could mean the difference between success and failure._

_If Xanatos was truly away – this was by far the most troubling thought. He could be waiting right outside her door, and she didn't want to even consider what might happen if he was._

_She took a deep breath. As soon as she disconnected her monitors, the medical staff would flood the room, and then she had a matter of minutes before security would arrive. The alarm sounded, and she slipped down beside her bed, collecting a small bag she had hidden and a blaster she had managed to acquire. She used the confusion of the moment to slip, unseen, out the door and close it on them, locking them in her prison. Swinging the bag onto her back, she made a run for the nursery._

_Crion was sleeping, so peaceful, so beautiful, and she hated to wake him. _

"_Crion," she whispered, stroking fingers down the side of his face. Bright blue eyes looked up at her, and she smiled._

"_Mama," he beamed sleepily._

"_Come on. We need to go bye bye," she said._

_He reached for her, completely trusting. She began to leave._

"_Da?" he questioned._

"_No, Sweetheart. He's not coming," she said, pressing a gentle kiss to the child's forehead._

Just a moment's rest, it was all she needed. The staircase was proving to be more of a drain than she had anticipated; especially considering the weight of the sleeping child she carried in her arms. She sat down on the steps, not caring that the glances of those passing by lingered on her. All that mattered was the precious boy cradled against her chest. He was the reason she had pushed herself beyond reasonable expectations for someone in her state of health.

"_Mia, come down and let's discuss this."_

_Soren, Xanatos' right-hand man, stood at the bottom of the landing ramp. She stood, half-hidden by the hull of the ship, ready to duck behind its safety should anyone fire on her. The blaster in her hand never wavered, firmly trained on the man's chest. _

"_You honestly expect me to come down," she scoffed. "I seal this door, and I'm free."_

"_Didn't you think it was a bit easy? You were allowed to escape, Mia," the man said. "Xanatos did not want to take a chance on injuring either of you. He hoped that if I remained behind, I would be able to talk some sense into you. He doesn't have to know. If you come now, we can return to the estate and pretend this never happened. If you go, he will come to retrieve you on his own."_

"_Xanatos will know," she said._

"_This attempt is futile at best, Mia," Soren urged. "You have nowhere to go. He knows about the accounts, even the ones you have tried to channel funds into for this escape. Once you access them, he will know your location. This ship is tagged. You won't get far … and I doubt you will find his forgiveness this time."_

_There was no choice. While her death in some form was a certainty, if she surrendered, she would never see Crion again. "I hope you're wrong," she said as she hit door controls and made her way to the cockpit._

The past two months had been hell, weeks of arriving somewhere and just beginning to feel as though she could breath, only to have Xanatos show up days later. Exhaustion, worry, and fear had quickly begun to take their toll on her already weakened body.

Soren had been truthful. The ship had been tagged, as had her accounts. She had escaped one port because a kind, elderly shop keeper had informed her of images being circulated of her and Crion, offering a substantial reward. It had prompted her to change her appearance and keep her son covered. Another narrow escape had come because Crion had 'sensed' Xanatos near and gleefully alerted Mia to his presence. She only hoped her son would one day forgive her for taking him away from his father.

They had ultimately been reduced to traveling as refugees, hoping to elude Xanatos, using what little credits remained for food. She was now at the end of her rope, hanging on with desperation, exactly where he wanted her to be. Her last hope stood before her.

She surveyed the large, elegant structure, the one that rose high into the skyline and dominated everything around it. Slowly, she began to climb the stairs again. She pushed through large doors that opened into a guest foyer and reception area. A young human girl sat at the desk, talking to a young Mon Calamari.

"Can I help you?" the girl asked.

Mia hesitated. The world was going in and out of focus, sweat beading on her forehead. She closed her eyes to still the spinning. After gaining composure, she said, "I need to speak with a Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. It's quite urgent. Can you tell me if he's here?"

"Please, have a seat," the girl said cheerfully. "I'll check and see if he is on Coruscant."

Mia quickly took the seat offered. The world was spinning again, darkness creeping into her vision. She closed her eyes, hearing the Mon Calamari speak.

"Master Jinn returned from a mission two days ago."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I just saw Obi-Wan when I accompanied Master Nuran on her rounds this morning."

The voice grew louder, its owner moving toward her. Mia opened her eyes when someone touched her face. The Mon Calamari was standing in front of her, finned hands resting gently on either side of her head, large silver eyes smiling at her. "You're not well at all," she said softly.

"No," Mia admitted. Warmth filled her body, the fog fleeing from her mind. She felt sleepy, her entire body heavy and sinking.

The Mon Calamari girl looked away for a moment. "Kiyla, tell Master Jinn to meet us in the Healer's Ward." Then she looked back to Mia. "My name is Bant. I am going to have someone come and take you and your son to see our healers."

"I don't have time," Mia whispered, trembling. "He will find me."

"I can't imagine anyone would storm the walls of the Jedi Temple looking for you. Even if he did, I assure you, you're safe here."

"Look who's awake," Bant said softly.

The boy looked at her with large, still-sleepy eyes. Thick, dark locks stuck up at odd angles around a bright face.

"Mama?"

"Shhh," she replied. "She's there – sleeping. We should let her sleep."

Her face contorted before she whirled around, leveling a stern look at the russet-haired, teenage boy standing in the doorway. His face was gleefully defiant, jeweled eyes sparkling with delight as he prepared to be scolded.

"And what exactly are you doing up, Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"The fever broke, so I am no longer contagious. Master Nuran said so herself this morning."

"You still look awful … besides, that's not the point. Master Nuran's orders were to stay in that bed."

"My master is still tied up with the Council, debriefing our last mission. He asked me to come see about our guest, and I can't refuse my master's order." The boy crossed his arms in front of his chest as though daring her to refute his reasoning. She playfully glared at him. "Do you know who she is?" he asked, entering the room to get a better look at the sleeping woman. "Did she say why she wanted to see my master?"

"No, but someone is following her. She's terrified of him finding her. We examined her son. He had a small tracking chip planted beneath his skin. Master Nuran removed and disabled it."

Obi-Wan turned and looked at the boy who was staring up at him and Bant in fascination. "He's Force sensitive." A quick brush against his mind had the teenager's eyes widening. "And, it looks like he's been around someone else Force-sensitive … someone who has at least started teaching him some awareness of his abilities."

"The 'he' she referred to?" Bant wondered.

"Maybe," Obi-Wan replied, placing a hand against the wall to steady himself. He had grown pale, and looked like he might lose the morning meal he had struggled to get down.

"I thought you were feeling fine," she teased. "You might want to get back to your bed now."

"Don't rub it in," he said, scowling as he turned to leave. "Just, let me know if she wakes up before my master gets here."

Mia gradually grew aware of the world around her. She hadn't been this warm, or clean, or comfortable in weeks. She was in some sort of medical center. The hum of equipment filled her ears; the sweet smell of bacta hung in the air. Deep, melodic laughter broke the monotony of sound followed by the giggle of a child, and an insistent, "up!"

Mia looked to the side. A tall man covered in a dark, mahogany-colored robe lifted Crion high over his head. The boy giggled as he was lowered, reaching out to grab a handful of long, chestnut hair.

The Jedi lowered Crion to the ground, remaining hunched over as he attempted to separate his hair from the boy's strong grip.

"Let go, now," he chided in a sing, song baritone.

Mia resisted the urge to laugh. She shouldn't when her son was being so mischievous. Suddenly panic overtook here. She had no idea how long she had slept. She struggled to sit up, unable to force words from her mouth. Two large hands settled her back to the pillow.

"You're fine, you are safe," the man soothed, sitting down before scooping Crion up into his lap. "The healers examined the boy. They removed and disabled a tracking chip …"

"Oh no," she sobbed. Why hadn't it occurred to her before that Xanatos would be tracking them?

"The range on that sort of device is limited. If you haven't been here long, I doubt whoever is following you even knows you are on Coruscant."

"I came directly here from the docking station," Mia murmured. "Are you Master Jinn?"

She knew little of Qui-Gon Jinn other than he had once been Xanatos' mentor, and that he was the man who had killed Xanatos' father. Xanatos had done his best to discredit the Jedi master, but Mia had difficulty believing that the gentle man sitting beside her was the treacherous betrayer Xanatos made him out to be.

"Yes." He studied her for a moment, brows furrowing as he took in her face. "Have we met before? I meet many people throughout the galaxy and sometimes have difficulty remembering names."

"No." She nodded her head. "My name is Mia Kender, and that is my son … Crion Marojni."

The Jedi master visibly paled at the name. Tenseness in his posture and arms created an almost visible barrier between him and the child. Crion looked up at him, confused at the change in demeanor. Mia lowered her head.

"I am sorry to open old wounds," she said gently. "But, I've run out of time. I'm dying, and I don't have the strength to run anymore. I can't die in peace without knowing that my son is safely away from his father. Can you help me?"


	6. Chapter 6

Incognito12 – I find the Xanatos presented in the books to be a bit two dimensional. I prefer him much more conflicted about life. Not the bloody maniac, as you said, but still someone who lives by his own rules.

LianneZ4 – Yes, the plot thickens.

sterling5842 – I am sure that Xanatos' viewpoint of the Jedi was not the only one she had. I think she more so was looking at the lesser of two evils. Yes, this new insight on Crion is not going to be easy for Qui-Gon to swallow.

**Chapter 6**

Qui-Gon felt like the world was spinning, growing smaller and smaller as though it just might collapse in on him. He closed his eyes to steady himself, quickly drawing on the Force to calm his racing thoughts and emotions. It had been over two years since he had last seen his former apprentice, on Bandomeer.

By agreeing to heavy fines, and no doubt by lining a few pockets along the way, Xanatos had appeased galactic authorities and managed to slip relatively unscathed through what should have been a legal minefield. Offworld was as prosperous as ever. The Jedi kept a watchful eye on the corporation, looking for signs of overt criminal activity, but nothing had surfaced. Xanatos was too intelligent for that, and wouldn't allow himself to be burned a second time.

A weak prod at his mental shields brought Qui-Gon back to the present where he held Xanatos' child in his arms. Two small hands pressed against his beard, tugging his head downward. He didn't want to look at that small face with the knowledge he now held, but the boy was persistent. With a deep breath, Qui-Gon opened his eyes. How he hadn't seen it before was beyond him. Eyes, hair, skin … that smile – he was looking into Xanatos' face all over again, and it was like a searing blade had stabbed through his heart. He offered a weak smile, but disappointment bled across Crion's face. The boy knew something had muddied the Force between them. He scrambled off of Qui-Gon's lap and reached for Mia. Qui-Gon helped him climb up beside her, realizing she was still waiting for an answer.

"So, you are Xanatos' …"

Qui-Gon searched carefully for a term. The idea of Xanatos with a wife somehow didn't fit what he remembered of his free-spirited, unbridled former padawan. Qui-Gon had frowned upon his apprentice's sexual pursuits, and doubted the word monogamous existed in the young man's vocabulary. Xanatos had always been only more than happy to leave the idea of attachments and entanglements behind.

Mia brought an end to his search. "Lover would probably be the best term to use," she said, before glancing away. As she caught her lower lip between her teeth and took a deep breath, Qui-Gon could sense a profound feeling of loss sweep over her. "At least, I would like to think there was love there at some point along the way."

"I'm sorry for all you have likely been through."

Qui-Gon did not expect her to laugh, but the mirthless chuckle bubbled right out of her as she shook her head from side to side. "Before you start to feel sorry for me and dub me an innocent victim, you need to understand who I am, Master Jinn. I'm no better than he is. I never killed, but I made a living of seducing my way into trust, luring men to give up their carefully guarded secrets, and destroyed many lives without ever taking them. It was how I met Xanatos, and you could say, I met my match."

Though she was careful to not make eye contact, she could do nothing to hide the deep, conflicting emotions that flowed freely every time she mentioned Xanatos.

"You love him," Qui-Gon said softly.

"More than he likely knows. Perhaps in another time or place, it could have worked between us," she admitted. "Marriage requires a level of trust that neither Xanatos nor I are capable of giving. I know he offered me more than was comfortable for him, and he suffered for it." She looked up, her eyes acknowledging what Qui-Gon sensed behind her words. "He loves Crion deeply, and this is the second time I have taken his son from him. He caught up to me the first time, and I was surprised the opportunity came again."

The very fact that she was still alive meant that Xanatos cared for her in some way. Qui-Gon knew from experience the depth of his former apprentice's grudges, especially when what he perceived as betrayal was involved.

"Whatever I felt for him - that's the past, Master Jinn. I can't exist there anymore," Mia finally said. "I have wagered everything to make sure that Crion doesn't pay for my mistakes and weaknesses."

"What can I do to help?" Qui-Gon asked. "I have contacts throughout the galaxy. We can find somewhere for you both to hide."

"You are kind, Master Jinn, but even with plenty of rest and good medical care, I have a year left at the most. Crion will need somewhere permanent to live. Now, I understand very little of what you call the Force, and have found it all a bit alarming. Xanatos seemed convinced that Crion would be controlled by his giftings if not trained."

"I would have to agree with him on that," Qui-Gon offered. The heated glance sent his direction indicated he had touched on a very sore subject.

"Then perhaps you would at least agree with me that Xanatos should not be the one to train him," Mia shot back.

"Crion is young enough that the Temple will have no difficulty taking him in. I will have to consult with the Council because it would require a break in our policy. We do not take children without both parents' consent."

Fear seemed to swallow her, panic choking the Force around her.

"Ma?" Crion questioned before eyeing Qui-Gon in suspicion, as though he had done something to scare her.

Mia drew her son close, soothing him with tender whispers as she worked to calm herself. Qui-Gon spoke quickly to reassure her.

"We do make exceptions, and given our history with Xanatos, I am certain this would be a definite exception."

"Good," she whispered, smiling brightly as she pressed a kiss to the top of her son's head.

"However, I am certain that you will not be allowed to stay here with him."

Her face was the perfect picture of bravery and strength, though he could sense that she was crumbling inside. Over the course of his career as a Jedi, Qui-Gon had been sent countless times to bring children back to the Temple. The strong emotions involved with a mother parting with her child always made his heart ache.

"From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I feared that Xanatos would take my baby away and discard me," Mia began softly. "I understand now, that it is best for Crion to begin to adjust to life without me. I accepted when I chose to bring him here that I would have to leave."

"We must find a safe place for you as well. You are in danger on your own, and if Xanatos finds you, he will be able to find Crion."

Her face paled even more. She knew that reality as much as he did. He hadn't meant to squelch her newfound hope and peace, only to make her to pay attention to his next suggestion.

"There are other Jedi Temples. I can think of one on the Outer Rim where I have taken many sabbaticals. The gardens are unmatched and peaceful. Xanatos would never look for you there."

Mia offered a weak smile of thanks, her mind already latching on to the next task to be accomplished. "I need to leave a false trail. One that leads far away from Coruscant. I need …" She closed her eyes, fatigue washing over her. Qui-Gon reached out and took her hand.

"I will help you. You don't have to do this on your own anymore."

She didn't argue, too fatigued to think anymore.

"You need rest right now. I will go speak with the Council, and with your permission, take Crion to meet his agemates."

She nodded, all she seemed to have strength left to do. Qui-Gon placed his hand on the side of her face, pushing the last bit of resistance to sleep away. The toddler sitting by her side scowled at him, as though he had seen the trick before. A smile tugged at Qui-Gon's lips. He could easily imagine a desperate Xanatos using a Force suggestion on his son. The momentary sense of amusement morphed into remorse, and Qui-Gon pushed his emotions away yet again as he looked down at the boy.

"We should start over again. Will you come with me?" He held his hands out front. Crion watched him for a moment before standing up and reaching out. Qui-Gon scooped the boy into his arms and started down the hallway.

Crion was going to become a permanent resident at the Temple, and Qui-Gon had to wonder how long it would take to be able to look at him without feeling some amount of pain.

The lights were dimmed in the small room in the Healer's Ward, a place Qui-Gon decided he was spending entirely too much time in since Obi-Wan Kenobi had come into his life. He leaned against the door frame, watching the lonely figure staring at the ceiling.

"You were sleeping when I checked on you earlier. I didn't want to wake you. I had hoped you would still be taking advantage of this time for rest, Padawan."

The teenager turned and looked at him, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "I've had about all the rest I can take for today, Master. You can only sleep for so long."

"I'll remind you of that the next time you ask for five more minutes in the morning."

"That's different, Master," Obi-Wan groaned.

"Of course."

Qui-Gon resisted the smirk that threatened to spread across his face. Obi-Wan had spent their trip home ill with a high fever and unable to keep anything down. As the boy's master, he should be more compassionate than to tease. If only it weren't so much fun.

"Thank you for checking in on our guests for me," he continued.

"Did you find out who they are?"

The question was asked plainly, but Qui-Gon could sense his apprentice's burning curiosity. He hated to tell Obi-Wan. Xanatos had cast such a large shadow over their beginning as master and apprentice, but he wasn't about to lie.

"Yes." He paused. "The boy is Xanatos' son."

Obi-Wan's eyes grew large, alarm lighting up jeweled depths.

"They are on the run, Padawan, and seeking refuge here," Qui-Gon explained.

"What is going to happen to them?"

"I spoke with the Council earlier. It was decided that Crion will stay here in the crèche. His mother is dying and no longer able to care for him."

"He's going to be trained?" Obi-Wan asked with a hint of disbelief.

"Yes, Padawan. Do you believe there is a reason he shouldn't be?"

"It just surprises me - that's all," Obi-Wan answered. "Isn't the Council worried that he's been tainted or something?"

"Crion has spent time with some of the masters already. That has dissuaded any concerns they had, and they believe he will adjust quickly."

"Are you going to be okay with it?"

"It doesn't matter if I am or not." Qui-Gon smiled gently, touched by his apprentice's concern for his well-being. "I will have to remind myself that he is not his father, and I have a responsibility to see that he is taken care of. I promised his mother that I would help."

Obi-Wan searched his master's face for a moment before apparently being satisfied with what he saw.

"I will be leaving the Temple for a few days so that I can accompany Miss Kender to a safer location."

"I'll come with you," Obi-Wan said eagerly, trying to sit up.

"No, you need to rest, Padawan."

The stern gaze he leveled at his apprentice squelched any arguments on the matter.

"Will I have to stay in the Healer's Ward the entire time you're gone?"

Qui-Gon tried to not to smile. He shouldn't when his apprentice was practically whining.

"No. Since your fever has broken and you have managed to keep food down today, Healer Nuran said that she will release you in the morning. I have made arrangements for you to stay with someone."

"Good," Obi-Wan sighed in relief, before rethinking the option. "Wait … with Master Yoda?"

"No. I want you to actually eat something while I'm gone," Qui-Gon said. "Master Tholme and Quinlan are at the Temple, and offered to let you stay. But you still need to rest. Master Tholme has my permission to march you right back up here if you don't."

"I will," Obi-Wan promised quickly. "Thank you, Master."

Qui-Gon tucked the blankets carefully around his apprentice, before standing to leave.

"Master?"

"Yes, Padawan."

"Do you think Xanatos will come looking for his son?"

"I think the Temple is the last place he would look. But we will change Crion's surname and have his records reflect that he is an orphan."

Obi-Wan's face creased into tense lines. Qui-Gon had learned that the expression usually meant his apprentice saw something in the Force that the master could not. It was most often accompanied by the words, 'Master, I have a bad feeling about this'. That's not what that boy said. Instead, Obi-Wan offered a simple, "Be careful, Master."

"I will. I promise," Qui-Gon replied.


	7. Chapter 7

Incognito12 – Alas, the cliffhanger might be anticlimactic … for now.

**Chapter 7**

~ 1 year later ~

Qui-Gon slipped into the small room, smiling at how cheerful it managed to be despite the fact it was on the Healers' Wing. The curtains were pulled back from the room's lone window giving a splendid view of the east gardens. He fingered the bright, colorful fabric that seemed so out of place among the Jedi. Mia had decorated the room herself, and no one had objected to her making it her home.

The shelves were lined with holos Qui-Gon had chosen to send over the past year. Crion looked down on his mother from all around the room. He had adjusted well to life in the Jedi crèche on Coruscant, and the beaming smile in each image was testament to his happiness. Qui-Gon found himself glancing away. It was a smile the Jedi master remembered too well, shared by another.

He turned his attention to the figure lying bundled in the cot that faced the window. One of the healers, a young human woman, was leaned over speaking softly.

"Miss Kender?"

Mia barely registered the words. It seemed the thought of turning her head or even opening her eyes was too much to bear. The healer said that her patient had been drugged heavily and was in no pain, but nothing could supply energy and strength that did not exist. Death was near, maybe hours, maybe just moments. It was hard for Qui-Gon to believe the frail woman resting comfortably was the same determined mother who had fled from Xanatos and brought her son to Coruscant.

"Miss Kender, you have a guest," the healer tried again.

Mia didn't have to ask who her guest was. Qui-Gon was the only one who ever visited her, usually just an hour stop-over if he and Obi-Wan were nearby after a mission. He wasn't sure why he came. Perhaps there was still a lingering feeling of obligation. He had raised the man who had once loved her and fathered her child. In a way, he was the only family she had.

Her eyelids fluttered open. "Qui-Gon?" she whispered.

"I brought more holos," he said as he pulled a tray toward her.

He set four precious images out one by one, watching the smile on her face grow. "He's grown," she murmured, her eyes trailing along the first, the second, and then the third.

"He just celebrated his second life day."

"Your apprentice?" she asked as she looked at the fourth, an image of Obi-Wan and Crion building a tall tower out of blocks.

"Yes."

The answer had him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The holos he had sent or delivered personally over the past year, the information so carefully gathered on Crion's progress – all of it was courtesy of Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon had found him unable to visit the boy. Watch from afar, hidden, yes. But to actually interact with the son of his former apprentice was too painful.

"And this is the one you requested," he said, shifting out of such thoughts.

The image he activated was simple. Crion was not in initiate tunics, nor could the location in any way be identified as the Jedi Temple. He looked like any normal, happy boy.

"Good," Mia murmured. "Place it in the parcel on the table."

Qui-Gon did as asked. Mia's eyes were closed when he turned back. He gently lifted her hand, holding it between his palms. She lifted weighted eyelids to look at him again.

"I need … deliver … discreetly to Offworld."

"To Xanatos?" Qui-Gon asked in surprise.

"Has a right … should know Crion is safe and well," she said. "Please."

"I will see that it is delivered," Qui-Gon promised.

The time that followed was filled with stories of Crion, Obi-Wan, his latest missions – anything she wanted to hear. She drifted in and out of consciousness as he spoke in his soothing baritone. He continued to hold her hand as she closed her eyes for the last time, and her life force peacefully slipped away.

_He had almost given up hope. The last trace of Mia and Crion had been left on Ryloth where shopkeepers had reported seeing her and the boy. Apparently, she had been warned to leave. Mia wasn't stupid. They had begun to travel as refugees. On the Corellian Run, they could be anywhere in the galaxy._

_Then just two days ago, there was activity in one of her accounts. To be more specific, she had removed all the funds. He worried about her carrying that many credits around with her, especially here. He wished she had at least stayed on Ryloth. Why would she come to somewhere as dangerous as Nar Shadaa in her condition? Why would she bring Crion somewhere like this? Xanatos knew why. It was a haven for those who wanted no questions asked. With the amount of credits she had withdrawn, she could have easily bought her escape._

_He extended an image across the counter to a rough-looking human, the owner of the shop he had been directed to by a banker. "Have you seen them?" Xanatos asked._

_The man looked up, running a hand through greasy, slicked back, dark hair. He said nothing. After a lengthy pause, Xanatos pushed a sizable stack of credits toward the man._

"_Yes, yes, I remember her now." A smile pulled at a scarred cheek. "Beautiful … too beautiful to be alone in this sector," he suggested, not knowing that the lust and greed rolling off of him was fanning dangerous flames of darkness._

_Xanatos clenched his fists tightly, his pale knuckles nearly turning white._

"_It's dangerous. She would bring a good price in the slave markets …"_

_In seconds, the man was grabbed up by the front of his tunic in Xanatos' fist and flung against a wall, feet kicking in a desperate flurry._

"_You'd better pray to whatever deity you might worship that you didn't lay a hand on either of them."_

"_No, no!" The man cowered against the anger that burned brightly in Xanatos' eyes. "I only sold her a ship. She barely bargained, and had a blaster aimed at me the whole time. She obviously wanted to leave quickly, maybe to get back to the boy."_

"_I need to know everything about that ship," Xanatos said curtly. "Can you trace it?"_

_The shop owner let out a hesitant, fearful chuckle. "Where do you think you are – the Core worlds? I sell to smugglers, and wouldn't have the reputation I have if I sold things that could be traced."_

"_I see," Xanatos replied, settling the man back to his feet._

"_It was an old Corellian model – fast." _

_Weak-minded and consumed with greed, the shop owner was an open book for Xanatos. Fortunately for him, he was telling the truth._

"_Thank you for your time." Xanatos slipped a chip containing Offworld contact information across the counter. "My aide will wait here for the specs on the ship. I trust you will contact me if you hear anything else. I will pay handsomely for information."_

"_Of course."_

_Xanatos spun on his heel, exiting the small shop. Crion had not been in the shop with her … that meant she had help. Of course she had help. While Xanatos had always pictured her alone on the run, the fact was that her life before him had afforded her contacts all over the Outer Rim. He would start tracking down her former contacts in the area, but as far as he was concerned, the trail was dry again. Mia had a ship and could be anywhere._

Xanatos gazed at the parcel over folded hands as he had for the last five minutes since it had been delivered. The neat, curvy handwriting was familiar, painful even, as it had delivered note after note in the time he and Mia were together. There was no record of where the parcel had come from, probably passed through a multitude of couriers if Mia had been careful, which he trusted she had.

Finally deciding there was nothing left to do, but actually open it, he slid the parcel toward him. The first thing he recognized inside was a voice recorder, the second a holo. He activated the image first, his breath catching as a small image sprang to life on his desk. Crion smiled at him brightly, obviously healthy and happy.

Xanatos breathed a sigh of relief. He had wondered after losing their trail on Nar Shadaa if he had condemned his son to a life of destitution, traveling as a refugee, only to end up in a orphanage reserved for the unwanted and discarded of the galaxy. Obviously not. He should have known Mia better.

Still eyeing the small image, he activated the voice recording.

"_Hello, Xanatos. By the time you receive this package, I will have passed on from this galaxy."_

Her voice sounded so weak, so lifeless. An unexpected pang of regret brought discomfort to the pit of his stomach. She should have been here with him when she drew her last breath, not alone somewhere, possibly among strangers.

_I am sending this so you are not left to wonder about your son. Crion is happy. He will never lack for anything. My only regret is that he will not grow up knowing two parents who both loved him very much._

It was surprising how much the simple assertion meant to him. He loved Crion more than he could express in mere words, and wondered if Mia had even seen him as capable of that in the end.

_I don't expect for you to ever forgive me, though I hope one day you may understand why I had to leave you._

Her voice broke, her breathing labored. It was obvious she had been unable to continue whether from sheer weakness or because she was overwhelmed with emotion.

He placed a hand over the recording device, wanting desperately to crush it. Only the certainty that he would want to listen to it and hear her voice again kept him from doing so.

Standing, he collected the two objects and left his office. He made his way through the hallways of his home, staff parting to allow him to pass. No one looked him in the eye. By now all knew that he had received a package from "her", and were waiting for his reaction. They still remembered when Mia's trail had grown cold. He had locked himself in the nursery and given into fiery, hot rage. Everything in the nursery had been destroyed beyond recognition, most of it without him even touching it. No one remarked on the state of the room. No one questioned his demand to have it returned exactly to its original state. His bidding had been done.

That very room was his destination. He stepped through the door, knowing no caretakers would rush to give him an update on his son. When he closed his eyes and concentrated, the slightest hint of Crion's presence still lingered in the nursery, something he knew would sadly fade in time. He walked to the crib, handcrafted a second time from the artisan who had built the first. His fingers fell to the pale blue blanket hanging over the side, the precious item Mia had left behind in her haste.

Composed, ignoring the pain that constricted his chest, Xanatos placed the holo up on a nearby shelf along with those he had from his son's first year of life.

The time had passed for anger. All that was left was unwavering determination. He would find Crion. It might take time. His son might nearly be grown by the time he succeeded. It didn't matter. He wouldn't give up … he couldn't give up – ever.


	8. Chapter 8

Jacen200015 – Yes, I know. Poor guy just wants to see his son.

**Chapter 8**

~10 years later~

The Temple dining hall was usually quieter in the mornings than throughout the rest of the day. Still, as Qui-Gon entered the immense room, the laughter and talking of groups of padawans and initiates reached his ears. Some were still sleepy and talked of the coming day, fretting over last minute assignments and tests. Some had already started their day and griped of grueling early morning sparring sessions, or were saying their goodbyes before departing on yet another mission.

Qui-Gon quickly found the object of his search tucked away in his usual corner. Obi-Wan was looking over a datapad, nursing a cup of kaf. Damp hair indicated that he had already been up and done morning katas and meditations, showering before coming to morning meal.

"Good morning, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, taking the seat across from his former apprentice.

"Good morning."

"I'm glad to see you in one piece after the mission to Nesora."

Obi-Wan looked up from the datapad he was reading and smiled. "It was a relatively straightforward mission. If the prime minister's mind had actually been focused on the labor disputes, I believe it could have been more productive."

"What did he find more interesting?"

"Well." Obi-Wan began to blush. "She … was very intrigued by the Council's choice in negotiators."

"Ah," Qui-Gon commented. "That can be a difficult situation." Both Jedi burst out laughing as Qui-Gon warmly commented, "It is so good to have you back."

He hadn't seen much of his former apprentice over the past year and a half. Obi-Wan had kept busy with a steady string of missions, what time he spent at the Temple usually in the Healer's Ward or overnighting in the barracks.

"You are still planning to stick around the Temple for a while, I hope."

"Yes, I am more than ready for some leave time," Obi-Wan murmured tiredly.

"You have been going non-stop practically since your first mission as a knight. A time of rest will do you good." Qui-Gon propped his elbows on the table. "Anakin has offered you his room. He is a little incensed that you will be staying somewhere with as little privacy as the barracks."

"I think I will take my chances in the barracks. I might never find my way out of Anakin's room," Obi-Wan said, half-laughing. "Besides, it was like a crèche reunion last night. I found a bunk next to Garen, and we glared at Bruck across the room."

Qui-Gon leveled his former pupil with a scolding stare, and Obi-Wan responded with more laughter. "Okay, so there was no glaring. All three of us stayed up a little too late talking. I got up and dragged Garen out of bed so we could spar before he left on another assignment this morning."

"How nice of you."

"I thought so," Obi-Wan said, smiling, before his expression grew more serious. "I may not have many more nights there. I actually have plans for the time I am back at the Temple. I have been out running around the galaxy long enough now to know that I don't like being on my own."

"A padawan?"

Obi-Wan nodded his head.

Qui-Gon began to feel jitters of excitement at the idea of shared missions and training two apprentices side-by-side with his former student. "Do you have anyone in mind?" he asked eagerly. "I would be glad to help review candidates or offer any advice."

Obi-Wan grew quiet, taking one last look at the datapad in his hand before surrendering it to Qui-Gon. "I've been certain of whom for some time."

"Padawan?" Qui-Gon looked up sharply from the image staring up at him. "I …"

"Master, this was not a rash decision," Obi-Wan quickly interjected. "I have meditated on this much over the past few years. Even before being knighted, I was drawn to Crion."

"I know you would not head into taking a padawan without much consideration, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, quickly assuring Obi-Wan that he did not have to be defensive. "I should have expected that this was coming. You have taken a special interest in him ever since he first came to the Temple." Qui-Gon gave the datapad his attention again, skimming over the contents. "He will be a difficult pupil. One look at his disciplinary record should tell you that."

"It's no worse than mine was," Obi-Wan said, grinning. "He receives top marks, is gifted in saber."

"I have wondered why he hasn't been chosen before now," Qui-Gon admitted.

"When I inquired with Master Yoda, he informed me that a few masters have shown interest in him. The Council felt the need to be open about Crion's parentage. In each case, it was enough to turn the potential master away."

"I suppose I have the same unfortunate prejudice. The last thing I want is to see you hurt or betrayed …"

"He is not his father," Obi-Wan countered harshly.

"I know," Qui-Gon acknowledged softly after the shock of being reprimanded by his own student wore off. "He still has a few months until his thirteenth life day. Would you consider watching him a little more?"

"I know what it is like to be there waiting, wondering if anyone has noticed me. I won't do that to him when I am certain." Obi-Wan bowed his head. "Honestly, my inclination was to take him as soon as I was knighted, but I knew I needed time. Then, your recovery was slower than expected after Naboo. For a time, I thought that I might be taking over Anakin's training."

"You would have done that?"

"Yes, Master, but the Force did not will it. It saw fit to keep you here with me and Anakin. I am to train Crion." Obi-Wan caught sight of the wall chronometer, his eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, I have a meeting with one of the creche masters in 10 minutes."

"You had better not be late."

"Crion is sparring this afternoon," Obi-Wan said as he quickly stood and collected the datapad. "Will you come watch with me?"

"Of course, Padawan."

Midnight blue eyes flashed with determination. Some would think it admirable considering the boy was at an obvious disadvantage in his duel. His opponent, Bror Talik, was older than him by two years and already apprenticed. He had the advantages of height, reach, and experience. It showed on the padawan's face. He was enjoying every minute of humiliating Crion. Confident in his lead, Bror drew in closer and decided to taunt his opponent.

"Is Knight Kenobi here? I heard he got in last night."

"I've told you, he's a friend. I wouldn't be surprised if he is."

"You know, if he's such a good friend, why are you still braidless? He's sure taking his time, and after watching me wipe the floor with you, he might think twice."

Crion remained silent, fighting an internal struggle against the hurtful words. There was a part of him that was certain he was meant to be Obi-Wan Kenobi's student, but even that part doubted as time passed without a show of interest. Still, there was hope.

"The Force is never too early or too late if it is destiny, Bror."

Crion's face broke into a smile as he noted the older boy's mistake. Bror's saber dipped to the side. Crion brought his own blade down and drove his shoulder into his opponent's unguarded body. Bror fell backwards. Crion tucked into a roll and landed on booted feet, easily regaining his balance. He brought his saber down to his opponent's neck.

"Kill point," saber master Drallig called, ending the match.

The glare Bror sent in Crion's direction could have peeled the paint off the wall. Crion only offered a friendly smile, reaching for his long-time rival's hand.

"You are so easy to beat you know, Bror. All I have to do is wait for you to start running your mouth, or for your enormous ego to show up. Once that happens, it's only a matter of time before you screw up royally."

The padawan lunged forward, shoving him flat on his back. Crion scissored the older boy's legs with his own, dropping him back to the mat before pinning him with a knee to the chest.

"That's enough," Master Drallig called out.

Crion stood, a smug smile crossing his face as he bowed to his opponent.

The two boys parted, backing off to the sidelines. Another padawan came and draped a towel over Crion's shoulders.

Keyan Ja was thirteen-years-old, and had been a padawan for just over a year. He was shorter and stockier than Crion. Fine black hair complemented copper-toned skin that left him always looking as though he had been in the sun for just the right amount of time. He had been Crion's friend for as long as they both could remember. He was often referred to as Crion's conscience, a title the younger boy protested vehemently. Keyan was always quick to point out that his friend did indeed have a conscience, but perhaps lacked sense at times.

"The last bit at the end was a little unnecessary," Keyan scolded, receiving only a casual shrug in response. "All you had to do was fight a clean fight …"

"I did," Crion protested. "Talik is the one who is a sore loser."

"And not let your mouth get you into trouble …" Keyan continued. "You do realize there were potential masters watching?"

"Look, Keyan. If the Force wills for me to be a knight, I need a master who accepts who I am, flaws and all. I would quite honestly rather go to Agricorps than kiss up to some image of what someone thinks I should be."

"Did it ever occur to you that Sienn and I might miss you around here?"

Crion bowed his head at the mention of Sienn Mobok, the Twi'lek female who completed their circle of friends. She had sat with her master for the match and was probably on her way now. "I can't pretend to be something I am not," was all he could offer in response.

A sensation Crion was at a loss to explain prickled at the back of his mind. With the distinct feeling he was being watched, he looked up to the observation gallery, his eyes meeting those of Obi-Wan Kenobi. The knight offered him a smile before turning away and blending into a sea of mahogany cloaks.

"That was quite a display, especially the mouthing off at the end," Qui-Gon commented.

"The master I met with this morning said that Crion is blunt about what he feels, to a fault. He has no inhibitions with speaking his mind."

"That will have to be addressed before any diplomatic missions," Qui-Gon commented.

Though, from what I've heard of Bror Talik from Anakin, he didn't miss his mark."

They made their way from the observation deck to the lower level of the training salle. "I was thinking of asking him to join me for evening meal. What do you think?" Obi-Wan asked hesitantly.

"I would suggest a walk in one of the gardens, now," Qui-Gon replied. "The anticipation could kill him before evening."

The training salle was packed with younglings, still congregated and talking amongst themselves after the match.

"Follow her," Obi-Wan said, motioning to a young, pink-skinned Twi'lek. "She is one of Crion's friends, and is probably looking for him also."

"He's coming this way," Sienn said excitedly as she approached her friends. "I just saw him."

"Who?" Keyan asked.

"Knight Kenobi."

"He's probably just coming to offer congratulations. Don't read anything into," Crion said.

"There his is," Sienn practically squealed, lekku twitching in excitement.

"Obi-Wan!"

The high-pitched yelp pierced through the steady din off conversation, turning a few heads. A small boy waded through the crowd, a smile beaming on his face.

"Oh, Force. It's the Chosen Brat," Crion muttered.

"You're a little hard on him," Sienn said.

The group of friends watched as Anakin Skywalker threw his arms around Obi-Wan. "Master Qui-Gon and I really missed you."

"Can you get any more disrespectful?" Crion scoffed, turning his back on the scene. "I mean, I've known Knight Kenobi for a lot longer than Anakin Skywalker and I wouldn't presume to call such a great Jedi knight by his first name."

"They are padawan brothers," Sienn pointed out.

"He insists on calling the Queen of Naboo by her given name also … if he goes calling dignitaries by their first names on missions it could cause an intergalactic incident."

Ignoring Sienn's scowl, he reached down and shoved his towel back into his bag, grimacing as he caught sight of the chaotic pattern of scorch marks on the fringes of his tunics. When he straightened, Sienn was looking over his shoulder, a weird girl-sort-of dreaminess in her eyes.

"Crion," a voice called from behind him.

"Knight Kenobi," Crion said, stumbling to turn and bow in one swift move. "I am glad to see that you have returned safely." Force knew, it didn't usually end up that way.

"A sentiment that seems shared," another voice added.

Qui-Gon Jinn, another legend in the Temple stepped into view. If possible, Crion bowed even lower and more respectfully. "Master Jinn."

"I was going to take a walk. I wondered if you would join me," Obi-Wan offered.

"Ye … yes, Sir." Crion could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Until that very moment, he hadn't realized how much a part of him had hoped that Obi-Wan Kenobi would choose him as a padawan.

"Can I come?" Anakin asked.

Crion bit back the curse that was on his lips. The kid just wasn't getting it.

"Anakin," Qui-Gon called, mercifully hedging off an awkward moment. "I believe we have one more lesson to work on before your next class."

"Yes, Master."

The pair left. Keyan and Sienn turned to leave as well, Sienn squeezing Crion's arm on the way by.

Crion followed Obi-Wan as the knight led him into one of the gardens, stopping at a spot where two benches sat facing each other. His stomach started turning somersaults as Obi-Wan motioned for him to sit. He wondered whether this would just be a case of a friend catching up on what had been happening, or if this would turn into one of the most significant moments in his life as a Jedi.


	9. Chapter 9

LianneZ4 – You may hear about some deviations from JA and TPM, but I am not going to specifically show what happened in this universe. Qui-Gon and Anakin are definitely around and involved in this story. As for where things are going, I will leave you guessing.

Chapter 9

The boy sitting in front of Obi-Wan was trying to mask his emotions. The Jedi knight thought to tell him not to worry, that the shields of a 12-year-old initiate were not strong enough to hide the potent mixture of anticipation and doubt from him, but that would probably only make the boy more nervous.

Qui-Gon was right. Crion continued to look more like his father every day. The startling blue eyes and dark raven hair, combined with pale skin had to make anyone in the Temple who had ever known Xanatos take a second glance. It was the inner light that shined from the boy that set him apart from what Obi-Wan remembered of Xanatos.

"That was quite a match," Obi-Wan said, finally breaking an awkward silence. "I thought for certain that Padawan Talik had you there for a while. You have a gift for keeping your focus."

"Thank you, Knight Kenobi," Crion said with a polite nod of his head.

"The verbal antagonizing at the end was unnecessary," Obi-Wan added.

"He needed to hear it," Crion shot back without hesitation. "Seriously, a Jedi can't afford to lose focus or get too full of himself in a fight. Bror's going to get someone killed one of these days."

"Perhaps, but that is for his master to address, not you. The graceful and proper thing to do after defeating your opponent would have been to bow and walk away."

Crion lowered his head at the reprimand, reigning in heated emotions as though he were a padawan with five more years of training. It was a good glimpse for Obi-Wan of how his new pupil handled chastisement.

"Have you given thought to where the Force might be calling you?" Obi-Wan continued.

Crion let out a dry chuckle. "I have a few months until I turn thirteen and haven't been chosen as an apprentice. I think about it every day."

"Of course." Obi-Wan tried to soften his expression. The tense lines on Crion's face made him wonder if he was sounding too severe. He briefly wondered how Qui-Gon always managed to get that perfect mix of sternness and empathy. "And what do you feel the Force is telling you?" he prompted.

"I don't want to presume on the Force. I could be reading it all wrong, but I still feel that I am supposed to be a knight. It's just that no masters have seemed interested." Crion shrugged. "I mean, I know I'm not perfect, but I do well and work very hard."

Obi-Wan wished he could tell the boy that it was, in fact, nothing he had done or failed to do. It was the simple issue of being born to the wrong father. But he couldn't. He and Master Yoda had agreed that Crion was far too young to learn the truth of his parentage. The knowledge would be too much for such young shoulders to bear.

There were issues, however, that did need to be addressed before he eased the boy's concerns over his future. Crion visibly paled when Obi-Wan pulled out a datapad.

"Let me guess – my disciplinary record?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, offering a pleasant smile. "I honestly do not see anything here that is too horrible - minor episodes of mischief, some instances of foul language, mostly verbal baiting like you exhibited in the arena today." Obi-Wan dropped the datapad down on the bench next to him. "I assure you, my record was every bit as colorful. I am encouraged that I see very few instances of fighting, none of which you started. The crèche masters say that you do have a temper, but are very capable of keeping it in check."

"I haven't found a good enough reason to fight someone," Crion said shrugging again. "There are two types in the crèche, those who fight because they are bullies, and those who just seem to attract the attention of bullies. I don't fall into either one. Bullies want someone who gets upset about being hassled, and I frankly don't care. Yeah, I get angry, but I am not going to lower myself to that level. Besides, I wiped the floor with Bror Talik a couple of times, and everyone pretty much leaves me alone now."

"Not something to gloat about," Obi-Wan reminded gently. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "I spoke with the caretaker who has known you longest earlier today. She described you as pleasant, relatively easy-going, and comfortable in your own skin. She does worry about your arrogance and lack of respect for authority, however."

"I do respect those over me."

"Your record shows that you respect those over you up until the point that you think you know better than they," Obi-Wan corrected.

"Doesn't my record also show that I am usually right in those cases?"

Crion looked up at Obi-Wan as though not understanding how this could possibly be a problem. That would be the arrogance the caretaker mentioned.

"I can't have a padawan who second guesses my orders when we are out in the real galaxy," Obi-Wan explained. "Our safety at times may depend on you doing exactly as I say and yielding to my greater experience."

Crion's brows furrowed, a question he was reluctant to ask forming on his lips. "What if you're wrong?" he finally asked hesitantly.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, already recognizing where he and his new apprentice were going to butt heads.

"Then you do the proper padawan thing, and allow your master to make a mistake. There will be times you will have to bail me out of a bad decision," Obi-Wan said with a smile. "That happened to me with my master."

Crion's eyes widened in horrified shock. Obi-Wan couldn't help but to laugh. "Crion, are you so certain that I am going to get us both killed?"

"No, no, Knight Kenobi," the boy replied. "It's just … would I ever have a say in anything … will you ever at some point listen to me?"

"Of course, Crion," Obi-Wan said gently. "It is the only way for you to learn, but it will be gradual. We will need time to build trust, and I am afraid that in life-threatening situations, there is not always time to bring our course of action to a vote." Obi-Wan paused before insistently adding, "I have to know that you will listen."

"I understand," Crion said, nodding his head in acceptance. There were still lingering doubts, but Obi-Wan sensed those would fade in time.

"I would like the opportunity to train you, if you would consider becoming my apprentice," Obi-Wan said with a sense of formality.

"I would be honored …"

"You don't have to decide right now. The offer will still be there in a few months."

"No, Knight Kenobi," Crion said with absolute conviction. "I can't think of anyone I would rather be apprenticed to, but … can I speak freely?"

"Please, I want to know what's on your mind … any concerns you may have," Obi-Wan offered.

"I know that you and Master Jinn are very close," the boy said as though asking a question.

"Yes, and I hope that our relationship as master and padawan will be just as close as the one I have with my own master." Obi-Wan leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't think he likes me and I don't know if that will be a problem," the boy admitted.

"What makes you think he doesn't like you?"

"I see him around from time to time. When I talk to him, like today, he always has this weird expression on his face like he just tasted something really bad, or like I'm scorching his eyeballs or something."

Obi-Wan laughed. He didn't mean to, but the image of scorched eyeballs wouldn't leave his mind. He knew the expression Crion referred to quite well. "It wasn't easy for him to see me knighted. Taking a padawan is another big step in my journey as a Jedi. It will take time for him to adjust, but please know that I have talked with him and wouldn't take a padawan that would drive a wedge between us. We have his support."

"Okay," Crion murmured, only half relieved. The boy still seemed like something was bothering him.

"Is there more?" Obi-Wan prompted.

"I don't like Anakin," Crion blurted out, eyes squeezed shut. Before Obi-Wan could answer, he began to clarify. "I mean, he seems like a really nice kid, but he just doesn't get the whole Jedi thing. He doesn't seem to understand what an honor it is to have been chosen as a padawan at all, let alone chosen by Master Jinn. He has no control over his emotions. It freaks me out sometimes. I have seen him totally lose all control in the dining hall."

Crion stared at him unapologetically. There was perhaps a little worry that this would call the whole deal off, but the boy seemed content to have finally released his concern.

"As you know," Obi-Wan began. "All padawans do not have the grasp on their emotions that you have seemed to find at such a young age. Cherish that you have a gift, but don't look down on others. If anything, try to set an example and help if you can." Obi-Wan shifted his position again, resting his chin on folded hands and he continued to think of how best to answer. "That said, I won't deny that I have had to adjust to Anakin's presence in my master's life. Please try to remember that he lived a hard life of slavery for the first nine years of his life, and was raised by his mother. The Jedi world that you have known all your life is very different for him. I believe that you might find the adjustment to life outside the Temple walls just as daunting when we begin missions."

"I didn't think of that," Crion mumbled with a little more humility in his voice.

"I cannot guarantee you are going to like everyone with whom we will have to work. We may even find ourselves joined up with Bror Talik one of these days. The Council sometimes delights in making us face our rivalries. It is part of growing as a Jedi to put our personal feelings aside and become more than we are."

"I understand," Crion said looking down. It was obvious the thoughts of all that faced him in his future were beginning to overwhelm him.

"Padawan," Obi-Wan said, the word awkward to him as it rolled off of his tongue. It took a moment for the boy to realize Obi-Wan had just addressed him. "Just as you are working toward knighthood, I will be working toward becoming a Jedi master. Neither of us is alone." Obi-Wan stood, reaching out to place a hand on his new apprentice's shoulder. "I guess we should go to our audience with the Council and make this official."

"You already scheduled it?"

"I had a sense that you would say 'yes'."

Crion smiled, the expression suddenly melting into a frown as he looked down.

"Kni … Master, I just sparred and am a sweaty, scorched mess. Do I have time to make myself look a little more presentable before I meet the Council for the first time?"

"Of course," Obi-Wan assured him. "I will meet you there."


	10. Chapter 10

LianneZ4 – I have had a lot of fun thinking through Crion's character. He is difficult – not the perfect padawan, but he is not his father. And yes, we haven't seen the last of Xan.

Charismilena – I wish it could have worked out for Xan, Mia, and little Crion. I did hate that Mia had to die, but the muse demanded it. I feel bad (but only for a moment) for what I have put Xan through because he really does love his son. However, I am excited to finally bring Obi-Wan into this. Should be interesting.

**Chapter 10**

Crion stepped outside the broad double doors that led from the Council chambers feeling as though he could finally breathe again. The collective gaze of twelve of the most respected Jedi masters in the galaxy had threatened to make his knees buckle. They had asked him many questions. He had forced himself to answer, which was new for him. Usually he had no difficulty finding his voice and speaking what was on his mind. All that mattered now is that they had approved the partnership. Though still without the appropriate symbol of a padawan, something that would happen in a later ceremony, he was officially Obi-Wan Kenobi's apprentice.

"What now?"

"I need to arrange housing for us and take care of a few other matters, mostly paperwork. You are welcome to come, but I imagine you would rather catch up to your friends."

"Are you sure?" Crion asked, torn between wanting to stay at his new master's side and wanting to share his good news.

"Yes, Padawan. The rest of the afternoon is yours."

"Thank you."

Crion offered a hasty bow, before turning to leave. He was stopped by Obi-Wan's voice.

"I almost forgot. My master has invited us for evening meal tonight."

"So soon," Crion murmured dolefully. The idea of interacting with both Qui-Gon Jinn and Anakin Skywalker for an entire evening was about as welcoming as facing the entire Jedi Council again.

"It will be fine," Obi-Wan assured him. "I will meet you outside your room at 1800. How does that sound?"

"Good. I'll see you then … Master."

Crion quickly made his way to the wing of the Temple where classrooms were located. He had missed class, but Obi-Wan had assured him that his instructor was aware of the circumstances. It was not quite dismissal time, so he waited outside the door for Sienn and Keyan, in some ways still reeling from the sharp turn his life had taken in just a few hours. He wasn't quite sure why he was shocked. Apprenticeship was the usual progression for a Jedi his age. Perhaps it was the immensity of being trained into such a line – Obi-Wan Kenobi, trained by Master Jinn, trained by Master Dooku, trained by Master Yoda himself. To be apprenticed to Obi-Wan Kenobi, who had defeated a Sith while still a padawan and saved his master's life was an honor, for certain. His thoughts continued to churn. Master Dooku had left the Order. And then, there was Master Jinn's first apprentice, the one who had betrayed his master and embraced the Darkside of the Force. Crion vowed that he would do his best to honor his line and not further mar it.

One of the classes let out early, younglings flowing into the hallways, chatting excitedly about late afternoon plans now that it was free time. Crion stared down at his boots, wishing Master Nahayti would let his class out early as well.

"Hey, Skywalker!"

Crion's head snapped up in time to see three boys converging on Anakin. All were younger than Crion, in the class below him. He didn't recall their names, but had seen them around the dining hall and practice rooms. In the center of the group was a classic bully, needing the support of a pack to pick on someone smaller.

"So are they ever going to stop making you spar with the babies?"

It was common knowledge in the crèche rumor mill that Anakin's education had been in a sad state since arriving at the Temple. While tutored privately, he still was catching up on classes with some of the younger initiates. Also behind in basic techniques, he was sparring with younger classes. Though from what Crion had heard, he was improving every day and was strong in the Force.

"Yeah." Anakin jutted out his lip defensively. "When I pass you up and am sparring and beating the older padawans."

Crion let out a deep sigh. Anakin was dream bait for bullies. He didn't fit in, was unsure of himself, and let _everything_ bother him.

"I don't know why Master Jinn wastes his time with you," the boy said. Jev was his name, Crion remembered. "There are a lot more deserving in the Temple …"

Crion knew his next course of action was unwise, but it was likely the right thing to do.

"Like you?" Crion scoffed, drawing near to the scene. "Do you honestly think Master Jinn would want to train someone who feels so small that he has to pick on someone else to make himself feel big?"

"Stay out of this," the boy said planting a finger in Crion's chest, perhaps realizing his mistake when he had to look up at the older boy.

"And …" Crion continued, pushing Jev's hand away. "Who are you to question what the Force tells a great Jedi master to do? From what I have heard, Master Jinn has more reverence for the will of the Force than any other Jedi in the Temple. If he's training Anakin, it's because it's what the Force told him to do."

"This is none of your business."

"Well, I'm making it my business." Crion leaned against the wall, crossing arms over his chest. "You pretty much have two choices. You continue with this fight you are about to start because Force knows, Skywalker will fight you. The only problem is that you have to deal with me also. I spar with padawans two years older than me so I will probably smear you all over the floor. This fight will go on your already long and dreary record and you will go to Agricorps in 3 more years. Or, you can just walk away and leave him alone. Your choice."

The three boys looked around at each other, almost confused. Perhaps they were confounded by his logic. They seemed to get the message though. Anakin eyed Crion suspiciously as the small gang walked away. "Why did you just do that?"

"I felt like helping, okay?" the older boy said, turning to leave.

"I don't get it."

That was true on so many levels, Crion thought to himself.

"I know what you call me," Anakin continued.

"Yeah, and you are a brat, and I will keep calling you a brat because that's what younger kids are to older kids – brats."

The fiery burst of anger and hurt that sprang from the younger boy made Crion grimace. He stomped back toward the bewildered padawan, grabbing up a fistful of tunics and shoving him back against the wall. Certain he had Anakin's attention, he leveled a pointed gaze. "Skywalker, you seriously have to let go … just let it all go and lose the massive chip on your shoulder. You cannot let their kind get the best of you."

"You don't understand," Anakin whimpered.

"Yeah, I do understand … more than you know. Any one of them would have eaten their left foot to have Master Jinn notice them. They're jealous that a great Jedi master chose you instead. Why can't you see the positive in that? They are the ones with an issue."

"But, I get hassled every day." The Chosen One clenched his trembling fists as intense emotion continued to bubble out into the Force. "I just want them to go away."

"Force, Skywalker - watch the anger. It makes my skin crawl." Crion released his hold on Anakin's tunics, smoothing them out as he pasted on his best smile. "You work on control – I'll keep the bullies off your back. Deal?" he asked, extending his hand.

"Deal," Anakin said hesitantly, accepting the hand offered. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because your padawan brother just took me as his apprentice, and he seems to care a great deal about you."

"You're the one coming for dinner?"

"Apparently so." Crion could sense Sienn nearby, pride radiating off of her like a mother kitling watching its young … well, do whatever young kitlings did. "Look, I need to go. I guess I'll see you tonight."

Crion turned, walking away from the Chosen One, with the feeling he was going to deeply regret what he just did. He neared Sienn, who offered him a wide smile before throwing her arm around him and resting her head on his shoulder. "I am so proud of you, Padawan Ryal," she whispered. "And it's so sweet that you're being nice to Anakin."

"Where's Keyan?" Crion groaned.

"He had to miss class also to get some shot before going on his next mission. You both left me to face Master Nahayti all alone." Both lekku drooped, but the slight smirk on her face betrayed that she was just putting on an act. She began to pull Crion down the hallway with her. "Keyan said that he would meet us in the Room of a Thousand Fountains."

"Hey, Crion!" Anakin yelled as he ran to catch up with them. "Can I walk with you guys?"

Crion shot Sienn his best pathetic glance, adding a bit of his bottom lip for effect. "Help," he pleaded softly.

"Sorry, I don't fall for that," Sienn whispered, sharing his pout right before raising her voice. "Sure, Anakin."

The boy slid up beside the pair. Anakin crinkled his face as he looked across Crion to the pink-skinned Twi'lek walking closely beside him. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"No," Crion spat out in obvious agitation. "Jedi don't have girlfriends. Don't you know that?"

"Then why does she have her arm around you?" the younger boy asked.

"Because she's a friend, almost like a sister," Crion explained.

"Oh." Anakin paused for a moment to process, and then scrambled to catch up with the pair of friends again. "So if your master is my padawan brother, does that make me your uncle?"

"No, Anakin." Crion rolled his eyes in a silent plea at Sienn again. She laughed lightly.

"So what does that make me?" Anakin persisted.

"If you insist on a family relationship, more like a cousin. Possibly, a friend in the future if you will stop being so damn annoying."

"Does Obi-Wan know you cuss?" Anakin asked in absolute seriousness. "My master washes my mouth out with soap when I cuss."

Well, that was something to look forward, Crion thought to himself.

An ache began to set into Crion's temple as he continued to walk along, Anakin trotting proudly beside him shooting out questions faster than a laser turret. He couldn't help but feel that he had somehow just made a grave mistake in befriending the Chosen One.

Evening meal was going to be interesting.

Qui-Gon was still in the kitchen when the front door chimed.

"I'll get it," Anakin yelled excitedly from the other room.

The Jedi master sensed the warm presence of his former padawan and the quiet, but very strong presence of Crion Ryal following. Qui-Gon took a deep breath, releasing his unease into the Force. It was time. He had known the Force would push his hand some day, just as it had helped him begin to recover from Xanatos' betrayal by bringing Obi-Wan into his life. Embracing Xanatos' son would be yet another step in that journey. Checking the stew one last time, he wiped his hands on a dish towel and went to the door to greet them.

Crion was standing by the door; his expression was calm as he surveyed the small quarters. Anakin had apparently grabbed Obi-Wan's hand and whisked him away to show off some contraption he was in the process of building.

"You sure have a lot of plants in here," Crion commented, in a polite attempt to start conversation.

"Yes, I do. I have collected them from all over the galaxy," Qui-Gon explained pleasantly.

"Ah," was all the boy said, peeking back to Anakin's room.

He was apparently a little distressed at talking to Qui-Gon alone, but more distraught by the prospect of venturing into Anakin's room. His eyes met Qui-Gon's again, eyes that held the same combination of keen intelligence and arrogance the Jedi master had always associated with Xanatos. Deciding that the line of thought was detrimental, Qui-Gon began to look for Mia in the boy standing before him. She was there also, not as obvious. Perhaps he recognized her from the calm temperament to which the boy managed to cling. Hopefully Crion had inherited her courage as well. He was going to need it with Obi-Wan's knack for finding trouble.

"I am glad you could come," Qui-Gon offered to keep things from settling into awkward silence. "It's nothing fancy I'm afraid, just a simple stew."

"Don't be modest, Master," Obi-Wan said, returning to the common room. "You make the best nerf stew."

"Thank you for having us, Master Jinn," Crion said, bowing respectfully.

"Let's eat before it gets cold."

The meal was going well. The nerf stew had survived going through seconds, but was now almost gone. Crion finally relaxed into the conversation when Qui-Gon began to ask him about his friends. He was more than eager to talk about the two youth that seemed to complete him. Then Anakin chose to enter the conversation.

"Crion helped me out in the hallway today after school. Jev Yisl was giving me trouble."

Qui-Gon would have thought that after over a year at the Temple, other younglings would have been more accepting of his padawan, but that was not the case. Harassment was a problem that seemed to plague the Chosen One.

"How were you able to persuade this youngling to leave Anakin alone?" Obi-Wan asked casually.

"He offered to fight with me," Anakin blurted out.

"It was never going to progress to a fight," Crion was quick to assure Obi-Wan. "Once someone started trying to bring sense to the situation, Jev lost interest.

"I really wasn't expecting it, especially since everyone knows that Crion calls me the _Chosen Brat_," Anakin continued.

The room went silent; the only sound heard was a spoon clanging to a bowl in a slosh of stew. Qui-Gon quickly looked over to where Crion had apparently dropped his spoon, splattering his leftover dinner down the front of him. He calmly looked down the front of him as he picked up a napkin and slowly began blotting at his tunics.

"Oh," Anakin mumbled. "You probably didn't want me saying that, did you?"

"No, Skywalker, not really," Crion said softly, avoiding looking either elder Jedi in the eye.

"I don't mind … now that you've explained it all." Anakin looked up to Qui-Gon, quick to defend his new friend. "Crion's friends are nice. They let me hang out with them today. Keyan is funny. He told me to watch out and not let Crion corrupt me. And Sienn is really sweet. She hangs on Crion and kinda snuggles with him, but she isn't his girlfriend or anything … because Jedi don't have girlfriends."

Crion gave on wiping his tunics and now was just sitting, a blush staining his cheeks as he stared into his bowl of unfinished stew.

"Are you okay, Padawan?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yeah … I'm just thinking about crawling under the table and dying, that's all," the boy said, finally summoning the courage to meet Qui-Gon's gaze.

"I would rather you not do that," Qui-Gon replied, smiling. "I would have a hard time explaining your dead body under my table. However, thank you for helping Anakin. Jev Yisl has been a thorn in his side for some time now, and any non violent solutions you can come up with are appreciated."

"It's getting late, Master," Obi-Wan said. "Crion and I have a pretty full schedule tomorrow so we should probably go."

Crion looked as though he was ready to hug his new master for providing a timely exit.

"Of course, Padawan," Qui-Gon said. "I look forward for to seeing more of you, Crion," he continued as the new master and padawan team left.

He stood at the door for some time, shamelessly using Force-enhanced hearing to spy.

"That could have gone better," Crion said.

"What happened to the boy who was comfortable in his own skin and didn't care what others thought?" Obi-Wan asked in amusement.

"I just wanted to make a good impression on Master Jinn."

"I think you did."


	11. Chapter 11

Charismilena – It has to be difficult for Qui-Gon to watch Crion because he is in many ways like Xanatos. I think over time, Qui-Gon will see that they are different though. As for what will happen with Xanatos, I will let everyone wonder about that.

LianneZ4 – I think Crion has that sort of disdain yet love that older siblings have for their younger. Probably also a healthy dose of "no one picks on him but me". There will be more Crion and Anakin fluff as we go along.

Valairy Scot - I too enjoy Crion's irreverence it using it also.

Geri K – I like the closeness Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan have here also. I like to think they would have remained close had Qui-Gon lived.

Jacen200015 – Thanks

sterling5842 – I can completely see a young Anakin spilling all of Crion's secrets and that it would unnerve Crion to no end. Thanks for reading.

TheWater'sChild - Yes, Xanatos has in no way disappeared from this story.

**Chapter 11**

_The sound of a piercing cry filled his ears. It wasn't so much the sound that stirred him as the grappling through the Force, a reaching out for someone who wasn't so helpless, someone who might be able to help. _

_Xanatos awakened, startled. Someone should have heard his son crying, Mia, a caretaker, someone. They should have gone to him and assured him he was safe. Yet the wailing continued, growing louder. Xanatos left his room, trailing down the darkened hallway toward the nursery. He stopped at the door, ready to palm it open. It refused to open. He repeatedly hit the button. The cries inside grew more urgent, fingers of panic and fear raking through Xanatos' mind._

"_Crion, I'm here," he called through the door._

_He tried the Force, prying it open with brute strength, even attempting to rip the control mechanism from the wall, but the door wouldn't budge. Xanatos ran a hand through his hair, seething in frustration. Crion was trapped, terrified, perhaps hurt, and he was helpless to do anything. He began to bang on the door frantically, determined to tear it down with his bare hands if it came to that._

"_Crion, I'm here," he called again. "I'm coming."_

"Sir!"

Xanatos' eyes snapped open as a hand grasped onto his arm and shook him. He found he was facing a door that was marred by deep dents that were the size of human fists, his fists. He knew this because he hands were beginning to ache, bruises already showing up across his pale skin.

"Sir, are you okay?"

He glanced to the side, acknowledging one of his housing security staff. The night guard had probably seen him on the monitors. It was awkward, but he felt no need to explain why he had been trying to beat down one of his own doors. The young man was new and had likely not been briefed on the dangers of startling his employer. It was fortunate he had not be thrown across the room.

"I'm fine. It was just a dream," Xanatos explained. "Return to your post."

"Yes, Sir," the guard said, making a hasty retreat.

Xanatos ran a hand down what he now recognized as the door to Crion's room. Last he remembered, he had settled into bed. He didn't know how he had gotten to a door, but echoes of his son's ghostly cries nagged at his mind. There was no crying now. Of course there wouldn't be. Crion had been gone for over 10 years.

"Just a dream," he whispered.

Xanatos rested his hand on the door controls, certain the door would now open and an infant boy would not be trapped inside. Sure enough, it slid open with ease allowing him to step inside. The room had changed over the years. Gone were the crib and the generous amounts of toys. In its place was a bed, a desk and chair. The only object from the original nursery that Xanatos had been unable to part with was a small blue blanket that would be forever etched in his memory. The holos of his son also remained.

He sat down cross-legged on the sleepcouch. The dream had felt so real, and even now he could sense that the Force was still agitated. The fallen Jedi closed his eyes, testing the currents that swarmed around him in warning. It had been a long time since he had truly meditated, but certain his son was in trouble and frightened, he embraced the Force. Immersing himself deeply, he cleared his mind and cast one thought along with all the comfort and love he could muster across an old bond into the vastness of space.

_{I'm here. Don't be afraid.}_

It was night, the planet had three moons, and the sound of some creature howling could be heard in the distance. That was about all Crion could determine of his surroundings from within his prison of twisted metal. He wondered for a short amount of time if this is where his life would end after only a year apprenticed to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The boy was still strapped into the seat his master had sent him to, insisting he would be safer in the cargo hold. What remained of that cargo hold was crumpled over him, lying across his chest, pinning him to the ground. He wiggled his toes, relieved they would move, but still cringing at pain. His heavily bruised body ached, but pain was good. It meant he was alive and not paralyzed. He accepted it and did his best to release it to the Force.

He highly suspected that the sticky, slimy ooze that trailed down the side of his head was blood. It was drying and itched horribly, but his arms were pinned so he couldn't do anything about it. The urge to panic nearly overtook him. For the first time in his life, he was truly terrified.

"Master?" he called out in a hoarse voice. Force, he was thirsty.

He made a clumsy lunge into the Force with his mind, searching out the presence of his master. Obi-Wan was near, but unconscious and injured.

"Master, please answer me."

He cursed the wreckage and his ineptitude in the Force. If he was older and better trained, he could levitate the debris off of his body and go help his master. Instead he was trapped. He tried to quell the sudden surge of fear at being alone, attempting to cast it out into the Force as he stifled a sob. Was help on the way? His senses were not attuned enough to determine the extent of Obi-Wan's injuries. For all he knew, his master could be lying there dying. Another piercing howl cut through him, this one sounding closer.

_{I'm here. Don't be afraid.}_

The voice didn't come from his bond with his master. Although he didn't recognize it, the soft tone was strangely familiar, like he had known it all his life. He welcomed the feeling of safety and security it provided. It settled him, giving him the focus to center himself in the Force. The presence soon faded, perhaps a figment of his imagination, perhaps only sustained by the desperation of the moment. It was replaced by something incredibly more tangible, the sensation of his master's alert mind searching for him, and Obi-Wan's joyful relief in finding him alive. Crion waited for what seemed like an eternity until the nearby sound of something being dragged along the ground drew his attention.

"Master?"

"I'm here, Padawan," the voice ground out with effort. Even though his master was close, Crion still felt distance between them.

"Why are you shielding so heavily, Master?" Crion asked worriedly.

"You don't need to deal with my pain on top of your own," Obi-Wan replied. "My leg is fractured; I have several cracked ribs, and took a good blow to the head. I am sorry to leave you alone for so long, but I lost consciousness right after we crashed." The Jedi grew silent for a moment. Crion could hear the shifting of debris around his head, and was alarmed by the groaning of metal that suggested his prison might just cave in on him.

"No good," Obi-Wan murmured to himself before raising his voice. "Crion, whatever you do, don't move."

The sound of a lightsaber igniting was not encouraging, nor was the heat that Crion felt beside his head. His master was cutting through the debris to get to him.

"Master?" Crion called. "Not that I don't appreciate the rescue, but didn't you say you took a blow to the head?"

"Don't worry, Padawan. I can still sense exactly where your head is, and I don't intend to cut it off."

"That's reassuring."

The next thing Crion was aware of was a burst of frigid air as the part of the cargo hold covering his head was pulled away. Obi-Wan flashed into view, looking worse for the wear. Warms hands came to rest on side of his head, warmth flooding his body as his master checked for injuries.

"Thank the Force," Obi-Wan murmured. "No serious injuries. Can you move?"

"Except for being pinned, yes." Crion turned his head, grimacing at the strain on sore muscles. "Any chance of getting the rest of the ship off of me?"

Obi-Wan studied it for a while, probing the wreckage through the Force before nodding his head. "Sorry, Padawan. The debris is supported and stable. I am afraid that if I shift it, it could fall and hurt you." Obi-Wan looked back out across the grasslands as a stiff gust of wind tugged at his cloak. He drew the thick fabric more tightly around him. "Besides, it gives you cover from the wind."

"How long before someone comes?"

"We aren't far from Coruscant. I was able to send out a distress signal so help should be here by morning."

The familiar incandescence of a glow rod replaced what illumination the lightsaber had provided.

"I need to take a look at your head wound."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere," Crion shot back. He hissed as his master poked at the wound, grimacing when he felt the ooze of bacta covering it. "I must have hit my head pretty hard. I was hearing voices earlier."

"Voices?"

"One voice really, a man's voice. I was really afraid. It spoke to me like you do, when you speak into my mind and helped calm me – probably just my imagination."

"Possibly," Obi-Wan said softly after a long pause. "Just let me know if you hear it again." The young master pulled his hood up over his head and pulled himself closer to the opening he had cut.

"Master, you need to find some shelter," Crion said, feeling another burst of cold. The fresh air actually felt good to him, but he worried about his master being exposed to the brunt of it.

"I will be fine. We need to talk and try to keep each other conscious."

Crion wasn't quite sure when he had dozed off. Obviously, his and Obi-Wan's attempts at staying awake had failed miserably. His master was slumped against the wreckage, robe still pulled tightly around him, sound asleep. It was the sound of approaching footsteps that had caused Crion to stir. He wasn't afraid. He sensed the presences of luminous beings in the Force, a rescue party.

"Obi-Wan?"

The Jedi padawan recognized the lilting baritone of Qui-Gon Jinn right before a large hand came to rest on his master's forehead.

"Over here, Bant," Qui-Gon called.

The Jedi master hurriedly shrugged off his robe, before tucking it around Obi-Wan. The young master seemed to instinctively burrow into the warmth. Then, Qui-Gon stretched his head in through the opening in the wreckage.

"I wasn't piloting, Master Jinn," Crion blurted out for some reason.

"Obviously," Qui-Gon replied with a soft, concerned smile. "I would be a bit concerned if you had been piloting from where you were strapped into the cargo hold."

The next voice Crion heard was that of Healer Eerin, one of Obi-Wan's best friends. "It's safe to move him. Let's lay him on the stretcher, carefully, his leg is broken. I want to get him onto the ship and start warming him up."

"You should go with them," Crion said.

"I think I will stay here and keep you company. Obi-Wan is in good hands, and Bant will just scold me and tell me that I'm getting in the way."

"I told my master to find somewhere warmer, but he wouldn't listen to me," Crion said.

"Of course not. Didn't you know that Jedi masters are among the most stubborn beings to ever roam the galaxy, especially when an injured padawan is involved?"

Qui-Gon leaned back and began to study what remained of the wreckage. "It shouldn't take long to get you out of here, and then we will go back to the Temple. The good news is that you both are due for an extended vacation."

"Yeah, the bad news is that we will be spending it in the Healer's Ward."

The Jedi master let out a light chuckle. "Good to know your wit is still intact"

"I thought I was going to lose him for a while," Crion admitted.

"Obi-Wan is going to be fine," Qui-Gon assured him. "Trust me, he has been through worse."

Obi-Wan wasn't exactly certain where he was as he began to wake up. In fact, he really didn't care. It was just good to be warm again. He sensed his master at his side, just as he had so many times as a padawan, and knew he was safe.

"Master," he murmured contentedly, finally acknowledging that he was in the Healer's Ward yet again.

"You should have found shelter," Qui-Gon scolded immediately.

"I know," Obi-Wan admitted. "I just couldn't leave him alone."

"Which is what would have happened if you had frozen to death." Qui-Gon's lips twitched in amusement as the young man squirmed under this gaze. "Surely you remember how to build a fire to keep warm. I did teach you how to do that."

"There wasn't much to build a fire with," Obi-Wan pointed out. "And last I checked, wind, fire, and grasslands are not a good combination."

"True."

"Where is Crion?" Obi-Wan asked.

"He's still in the bacta tank." Seeing the telltale signs of worry flitter across his former padawan's face, Qui-Gon quickly reassured him. "There is nothing serious, just a lot of bruising and scrapes. Bant wanted to keep him in a little longer. Anakin is sitting with him."

"I hope Crion is sedated then." Obi-Wan's laugher turned to choking. He clutched at his still sore ribs as he calmed himself. "I actually had something I needed to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"I think Xanatos and Crion had a bond," Obi-Wan said softly.

"What makes you say that?"

"Crion was terrified when he regained consciousness after we crashed. He said that he tried unsuccessfully to release it to the Force. Then he heard a voice telling him to not be afraid. He said that it felt it like when I speak to him in his mind along our bond."

"Mia did say that Xanatos seemed able to communicate with Crion without using words," Qui-Gon offered. "But, that shouldn't be possible over such a distance. What did you tell him?"

"To let me know if he hears the voice anymore." Obi-Wan closed his eyes wearily. "What happens if Xanatos ever finds him? I worry that Crion will find out and feel betrayed that I kept the identity of his father from him."

"You can't tell him, Padawan."

"I know." Obi-Wan shook his head sadly, suddenly seeming very interested in a loose thread on the blanket covering him. "I just did not like having to look my apprentice in the eyes and withhold the truth from him."


	12. Chapter 12

Charismilena – I am allowing some nice master/padawan fluff for Crion right now. Don't worry. I will complete lives soon. I think everyone will need hugs.

sterling5842 – I really like that I can explore the relationship between knight/master Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon at least in the AU. I like to think they would have been close and the banter would be priceless.

Irene Djo – When I first sat down and began to put some thought into Crion, I could only see him with a really sharp tongue. He means well, he really does, but there is no filter from brain to mouth.

Jacen200015 – There would be no fun if Crion never found out, now would there.

Now, jumping ahead in time a bit.

**Chapter 12**

The view offered by the Tarmahk Gorge was one of the most breathtaking Crion had ever seen. Tall cliffs extended from the river that snaked through the canyon, reaching up into a pristine blue, cloudless sky. It was a rift that separated two ways of life. On one side were the advanced Kai'may who lived in large modern cities, and on the other, the primitive Nai'may, who generations earlier had shunned technology and chosen to live in the jungles. Over the years their cultures had become so diverse that conflict had arisen, which was why Crion and his master were here.

The gorge really was magnificent. It would be the type of scenery to sit and contemplate all day long, but not while hanging on for dear life, somewhere between the bottom and the top. It was certainly not how Crion had anticipated spending his sixteenth life day.

"Are you okay, Padawan?"

The teenager looked down below to where his master was also hanging on tightly to what remained of a collapsed bridge. It had been primitive in construction, made of wood and vine-like rope.

"Yes, Master," Crion called down, allowing a bit of annoyance to bleed into his voice. He was the one who had pointed out that the bridge would never hold them. His master had urged them on, despite the creaking and swaying that should have warned them otherwise.

"You can say it, Padawan."

"What? I told you so?" Crion shot back without hesitation.

"The Prime Minister said that this bridge has been the main route across the gorge for decades."

"Yeah, but did he say that anyone had actually crossed it in that time?" Crion asked. "Nevermind. How do we get out of here?"

"I was thinking of this being one of the situations where you bail me out of a bad decision," Obi-Wan said with unmistakable amusement.

"Well, falling is arguably faster and less work," the apprentice replied. "But, the river is probably not deep enough, and I can see rapids from here. I think we would become one with the rocks. I say we climb," Crion said, situating one booted foot on the next plank up as though climbing a ladder.

"Have your cable launcher ready, Padawan," Obi-Wan called out from below. "There is no guarantee that what is left of the bridge will continue to hold us."

"Now he's worried about it holding our weight," the padawan mumbled under his breath as he began to climb, one hand over another, trying not to look down. The bridge creaked and groaned. Crion resisted the urge to pause, knowing their time was limited. Finally, the sound of ropes snapping echoed through the canyon, and the great bridge slithered down the cliffside, leaving two Jedi suspended from cable launchers. Crion let out a breath of relief as he slowly ascended the wall. He was even more elated when his fingers found the edge of the cliff and his feet found a secure foothold. He pulled himself up onto stable ground, reaching around to extend a hand to his master. Both Jedi sat on the edge of the gorge, taking in deep gulps of air. They sensed before they heard several beings creep from the cover of the jungle.

A tall man covered in furs, the Nai'may chief, stepped ahead of the group. His long gray hair was intertwined with beads and leather wraps. Stern dark eyes looked out from a chiseled, weather-worn face with a mixture of awe and suspicion. His piercing gaze fell on Crion as he closed the distance between them.

"Our brothers, the Kai'may, told us they had found one worthy to transverse the great chasm that separates our two people. We were reluctant to believe after so long, but the proof is before us," the chief said, resting a strong hand on Crion's shoulder.

"Me?" the padawan sputtered.

"You were the first to emerge from the great chasm, and have therefore, passed the test …"

"Wait a minute – did you just say test?" Crion exclaimed. He had a few choice words for the Prime Minister when they returned the capitol - that was certain.

"Padawan," Obi-Wan warned softly.

"Yes," the chief continued. "Our brothers know of our beliefs. Only one of great bravery and dedication, one of great worthiness, would traverse the great chasm. We will honor you as an arbitrator between us and our brothers."

The chief brought his other hand to Crion's opposite shoulder. "Umh …" Crion mumbled as he glanced back toward his master. "Any ideas?" he hissed.

Obi-Wan stepped forward, bowing low and respectfully. "Honorable one, this boy is under my authority, my apprentice. I am the intended arbitrator."

"He was the first to come from the great chasm," the chief protested, waving his hands emphatically. "We will accept no one else."

Crion stumbled to offer his own bow. "Sir, please, I am just a learner." He paused, extending his hands out in front of him in a contrite gesture. "The great Council that sent us from afar means for my master to be the one to lead you to peace." Crion was certain he heard a soft groan from Obi-Wan. "My master is very wise, wiser than I am. Yes, he did not reach the top first, but it was his choice to cross the bridge in the first place, definitely not mine. Please don't hold the fact that he losing the speed and strength of youth against him."

Something between coughing and choking erupted from Obi-Wan. Crion reached over and hit him softly on the back. "Are you okay, Master?"

"Fine," Obi-Wan replied, gasping in a deep breath.

A smile broke the chiseled lines of the chief's face. He turned and conferred with several others who appeared to be elders, rich laughter flowing from the group. Crion grimaced slightly, knowing the laughter was probably at his master's expense. Sienn and Keyan were right. He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.

"Very well, Young One," the chief finally said. "We will accept your master as our arbitrator. Please come to our village and feast with us."

As the two Jedi followed the chief and elders into the jungle, Obi-Wan turned to Crion. "Thank you, Padawan … I think." The Jedi master raised one russet eyebrow. "I will have you know that I am barely thirty and have hardly lost the strength and speed of youth. To my knowledge, you have yet to best me in sparring match."

"Hey, I got them talking to you." Crion shrugged. "You didn't really want me to negotiate this treaty, did you?"

"No, not really."

"I am truly sorry if your pride was wounded in the process, Master."

"Padawan," Obi-Wan protested in a scolding tone before he caught sight of the mischievous grin stretched across his padawan's face. Both Jedi broke into soft laughter as the lights of Nai'may village came into view.

Soren stepped into the lavish, dimly lit office, having been summoned just moments earlier. Of all of Xanatos' employees, he enjoyed a level of trust others simply did not. He had been through many trials with his employer, one of the privileged few to see a quieter, more vulnerable side to the man. He was not in the least surprised when greeted with a smile and an offer to sit and talk. It did not even faze him when Xanatos poured two generous drinks and pushed one across the desk to him.

"A toast?" Xanatos said.

"To what are we toasting?" Soren asked.

"There are many things that deserve a toast. We could toast to my son's sixteenth lifeday, to some new insight I've recently gained, to your employer's idiocy," Xanatos said as his face creased into a frown. "Take your pick."

"What has happened?" Soren questioned as Xanatos took a sip from his drink.

"I think I know where my son is."

"You do? That's wonderful news." At least Soren thought it was. Xanatos seemed to be too brooding to have received good news. "Where do think he is?"

"I know you don't have the same beliefs in the Force that I do."

It was true. Soren was a practical man. If it wasn't something he could see, hear, smell, taste, or touch, he was not inclined to put much faith in it. It was that pragmatism that had made him a valuable asset in helping Xanatos to manage his affairs. Still, Soren did not doubt Xanatos when it came to this mystical concept of the Force. He had been at his employer's side long enough to know that there were things he simply could not explain any other way.

"I have connected with Crion through the Force several times over the past couple of years. From that brief contact, I have sensed that he is growing stronger and honing his abilities. In addition, all of these incidents have been the Force warning me that my son's life was in danger or that he was frightened." Xanatos began to rotate his glass making tiny circles on the desktop as he stared down into the unfinished amber liquor. "There are not many ways someone of his age finds himself in that much trouble. It is possible he has fallen on hard times and has found himself on the streets, associating with smugglers, pirates, slavers, and the other scum of the galaxy. I am inclined to trust that Mia saw to it he was better cared for than that. Another possibility is that he is living the life of a Jedi apprentice."

"You think Mia took him to the Jedi?"

Xanatos looked up, nodding as he finished off the contents of his glass. "In retrospect, it makes perfect sense. I should have realized that is where she would go if desperate, but she was so adamant that I not train him to use the Force, and we fought so bitterly over it. I never thought…" He paused, shaking his head. "That's in the past. I won't dwell on regret when I might actually be able to find Crion."

"What do you need me to do, Sir?" Soren asked without hesitancy. Perhaps he alone of anyone knew what it would mean to his employer to find his son.

"I need access to Jedi records," Xanatos shot back immediately.

"As you wish, Sir."

Soren finished the rest of his drink before standing. As he turned to leave, Xanatos' voice stopped him.

"Soren, I need this to be discrete," Xanatos warned. "I have managed to stay away from Jedi scrutiny since Bandomeer. I will not take them on until I am absolutely certain they have my son."

"No inquiries will be traced back to you or Offworld, Sir. I will see to it personally," Soren pledged. That was why Xanatos was entrusting this task to him, after all.

"Thank you, old friend," Xanatos said as the door to the office closed and Soren set off with a definite sense of purpose.


	13. Chapter 13

LianneZ4 – Yes, Crion definitely feels more free to speak his mind now that he is older.

sterling5842 – I am glad you liked this scene enough that it stuck with you. I enjoyed writing it. I think Crion would have no problem with saying, "I told you so." As a high school teacher, I agree that putting teenagers in a diplomatic role is brave. Maybe the rewards of a jedi master are the same as a teacher in this respect – we get to see adolescents that terrify us initially mature and surprise us. Soren is good to Xanatos. Everyone needs a confidant. And yes, Xanatos had an "ah ha" moment when he realized where Crion was.

**Chapter 13**

The evening meal was finished, but Obi-Wan still sat at the table with Qui-Gon enjoying friendly conversation. Anakin had retreated to his room to tinker with some piece of machinery. Obi-Wan cast a glance across the table at his apprentice. Crion seemed to be listening attentively, but his unusual quietness and tense posture betrayed that he was highly distracted. The only movement he had made was to take an occasional peek towards Anakin's door.

"I can't believe you actually crossed the bridge," Qui-Gon said, shaking his head.

"Oh, you would have crossed it as well, Master. The Force would have clearly shown you that it was necessary to complete the mission."

"And Anakin would have been every bit as skeptical as I was," Crion added.

"I was going to ask you, Crion. If your master lacks the strength and speed of youth, how old does that make me?" Qui-Gon asked teasingly.

"No comment," the teenager mumbled.

The half-hearted answer gave Obi-Wan reason to pause. It wasn't like his apprentice to pass up such a wide-open invitation. Something was wrong.

"Padawan, what is troubling you?" Obi-Wan asked. "You seem distracted."

"I am sorry, Master." Crion made an almost imperceptible glance toward Anakin's room and then lowered his voice slightly. "Keyan returned this afternoon, and Sienn's master is away on a solo mission. This is the first time the three of us have been at the Temple together in over a year. I am sort of anxious to see them."

"I can imagine you are. Why are you sitting here listening to us 'old men' rehash a mission?" Obi-Wan said chuckling. "Get out of here and go see your friends."

Crion jumped up, nearly toppling his chair in his haste to leave.

"Just don't stay up 'too' late," Obi-Wan warned in a half-teasing tone of voice. "I know you don't have classes tomorrow, but I still expect you up in the morning for meditations and katas."

"Yes, Master."

Crion offered a quick bow. He had just about reached the door when he was stopped by another voice. "Hey Crion, wait up!" Anakin poked his head out from his room, still wearing a pair of magnifying goggles. "I just need to put my boots on."

It was barely noticeable; only the fact that Obi-Wan knew his apprentice well allowed him to see that the teenager had bowed his head slightly, long lashes quickly sweeping down to hide the disappointment and annoyance Crion felt.

"I'm not waiting forever, Skywalker," Crion called out. "And take off those ridiculous goggles."

It all of a sudden made perfect sense to Obi-Wan. His apprentice had been trying to find a way to sneak out for most of the evening so as to avoid having a younger tag-along. He could sympathize and was trying to think of a way to help his apprentice, when Qui-Gon spoke. "Anakin, I actually had plans for us this evening," the Jedi master offered with a hint of disappointment coloring his voice.

"Really?"

Anakin briefly glanced from Crion to the Jedi master sitting at the table. His face tensed, almost pleadingly at Qui-Gon, making Obi-Wan wonder what sort of nonverbal communication was happening.

"On second thought, I'll catch up with you guys tomorrow, Crion," Anakin finally said, earning a warm smile from his mentor.

"You sure?" Crion asked. He exchanged a brief worried glance with Obi-Wan to make sure the situation was all right.

"Yeah," Anakin answered.

Without asking again, Crion burst out the door, allowing a hasty expression of gratitude to flow across his bond with his mentor.

Anakin sunk down in the chair next to Qui-Gon, doing nothing to hide his disappointment. "Why didn't you want me to go with him, Master?"

"Two years may not seem like much to you, Padawan," Qui-Gon said. "But the gap between fourteen and sixteen is a lot wider than two years. Crion has been generous and patient to share his friends with you, but it is important that he have time with them alone as well."

"But, they're my friends too," Anakin pleaded.

"I know, and there is plenty of time tomorrow for them to attempt to drown you in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, or for whatever other abuse you choose to put up with, but give Crion his time tonight."

"Okay."

Anakin turned to return to his room.

"Get your robe, Padawan," Qui-Gon said.

"Why?" Anakin asked as he turned back to face his master.

"I was quite serious about having plans. I am in the mood for dessert and thought we might stop by Dex's. Are you up for it, Obi-Wan?"

"It appears my padawan has abandoned me for the evening, so yes. I haven't seen Dex in a while."

Anakin's eyes brightened with the new excitement of having both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to himself for the evening. "Can I stop at a few junk stores? There are a couple of parts I need."

"I don't see why not," Qui-Gon answered.

Obi-Wan waited until Anakin had disappeared into his room again. They had some time before the Chosen One managed to find his robe in the chaos of spare parts and half-completed projects.

"How did you know?" Obi-Wan asked Qui-Gon, lowering his voice to a near whisper. He thought he had been the only one to pick up on his apprentice's agitation.

"You have no idea how much Crion's mannerisms are like his father's were at this age," Qui-Gon said softly and somewhat sadly. "He's his own person; I know that. Any doubts I may have are removed every time he opens his mouth. But with the way he carries himself, he …"

Qui-Gon allowed the thought to trail off as Anakin rushed back into the room, crumpled robe in tow. "Let's go," the boy said eagerly.

"All I was saying is that there are some missions that have to be a little more difficult on all female master and padawan teams, like you and your master, because you are … well … more sensitive and emotional."

Keyan spoke slowly in his best negotiating voice as he tried to backtrack out of the minefield he has just wandered in to.

"That is something a male would say. Why does one of my best friends have to be so hopelessly typical?" Sienn stared Keyan down, her deep brown eyes sparkling in challenge. "Next thing, you will be saying is that all us females should wait back at the Temple and take care of the younglings while the male Jedi go out on missions."

"Whoa. You're completely twisting what I said," Keyan shot back with a helpless sigh as he held his hands up in surrender. "Crion will back me up, won't you?"

"Keyan, I hate to point out the obvious," Sienn taunted triumphantly. "He is also a male, and hopelessly flawed in his thinking."

"Come on Crion, help me out here," Keyan pleaded. "Crion?"

When no answer came, the pair looked up to see their friend draped across the sofa sound asleep. Keyan let out a devious laugh, forgetting all about his and Sienn's disagreement. Jumping to his feet, he rubbed his hands together as he began to look around the room.

"What are you doing?" Sienn asked.

"I'm thinking. Crion is out cold. This is too good of an opportunity to pass up. I wish Anakin was here. He's more creative. I could make up his face … or better yet, does your master have any of the G'lak hot paste left."

"You wouldn't," Sienn said, trying not to laugh. She had no idea what her master saw in the stuff. The last time Sienn had tried it, she had lost her sense of taste for the better part of a week. "He'd get you back, and I really don't want to be stuck in the middle of a prank war between the three of you again."

"I'll never have him this vulnerable again." He stopped, frowning as he heard the chiming of his comlink. "Alas, a perfect opportunity lost. My master's sabaac game must be over. That is my reminder to come home." Keyan snatched up his robe and headed toward the door. "You probably should wake Crion up and send him on his way. He isn't blessed with someone nocturnal for a master. Master Kenobi will have him out of bed at 0500 or some such Force-forsaken hour."

"See you tomorrow for morning meal, right?" he asked

"I'll be there," she said. "But, let's change the topic of debate."

As the door slid shut, Sienn turned her attention to Crion. Dropping down on her knees next to the sofa, she took a moment to just watch him. She hated to wake him when he was sleeping so peacefully. Why did human males have to look so ridiculously adorable when they slept anyhow? She reached out a rose-colored hand and fingered the soft spikes that rested along his forehead. Long ebony lashes fluttered ever so slightly against pale skin.

Another female padawan had once asked her what it was like to be best friends with someone the rest of the female padawans in the Temple spent so much time talking about. Sienn hadn't really thought much about it until her and Crion had kissed. They had both quickly agreed it was something that shouldn't happen again, Crion even going as far to suggest they not be alone again until his hormones were under control.

"Crion," she called gently, giving a not so gentle nudge through the Force when he failed to respond. "I'm kicking you out … so we won't be alone together … remember, like we agreed," she said when confused, bleary eyes met hers. "And to stop you before you drool all over the sofa."

He sat up abruptly, wiping his mouth. "Not drooling," he mumbled groggily

"No you weren't, but I couldn't resist," she said, laughing out loud. "It's not as bad as what Keyan wanted to do to you."

"I can imagine," Crion groaned. "What time is it?"

"A little after 0200."

"Morning should be interesting," he murmured, dropping a heavy head back against the sofa.

"Go get some sleep in your own room, then," Sienn scolded.

Standing, she tugged on his arm to pull him to his feet before walking him to the door. He must have noticed the frown on her face because he paused outside the door, leaning against the frame. "You won't always have to kick me out," he said softly as he brushed his fingers down her cheek. "I just don't trust myself right now."

"I know." She flashed a reassuring smile to tell him all was well. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before starting down the corridor.

As the two friends parted ways, neither noticed the third figure who had quickly hidden when coming upon the unexpected scene. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was of great interest to him to see his rival coming from a female padawan's quarters at such a late hour, especially when it was known that her master was away. Not that it really surprised him, or that he even really cared what Crion Ryal did, but he was sure it would absolutely delight the gossip mongers among the padawan ranks.

Keyan took a deep breath before chiming at the front door to Crion's quarters. He had hoped that Master Kenobi would be here, but had passed him heading out to an early meeting of some sort. Why hadn't he taken Crion with him? It would have made things much simpler.

"Hi, Keyan," Crion said as the door opened.

"I just saw your master leaving and wondered why you weren't going …"

"His meeting is at the Senate building. I don't really need to be there. I am sure I'll get what they discuss in the briefing before we are formally assigned the mission anyhow."

"I see." Keyan stepped inside, another deep breath as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Have you been out much this morning?"

"No, I am still recovering from my master's abuse. He decided that we should spar instead of katas – hardly fair when I was half asleep."

"There is something you should know," Keyan said decisively, deciding it was better to just get it out in the open. "Bror Talik saw you coming out of Sienn's quarters. As you can imagine, there were some pretty vicious rumors floating around the dining hall about what you were doing there the middle of the night."

His friend's face fell sober and tense. "Does Sienn know?"

"She was coming to meet me for morning meal when someone confronted her. She doesn't want to come out of her quarters now and for obvious reasons, really didn't want me to come in to check on her."

Crion dropped down onto the sofa. His feelings were no mystery, betrayed by a clenched jaw and vivid anger swirling in the Force. Keyan was relieved when it finally dissipated, his friend letting go of it. But, when Crion looked up, there was a flash of something in midnight blue eyes. Suddenly they were eight years old again, and Bror had just made Sienn cry, teasing the small girl about being so scrawny that a master would never choose her. Crion stood up and started for the door.

"Where are you going?" Keyan asked.

"To have a nice chat with Bror, of course. I could really care less if he tells the entire galaxy that I am sleeping with every willing female in the Temple, but he has no right to hurt Sienn."

"I can't let you do this," Keyan said as he stood in front of the door. He had to look up to meet his friend's gaze, but what he lacked in height was made up for in brawn. He was a formidable obstacle.

"Move," Crion commanded. "You know me well enough to know that I would not leave my quarters if I was not in control."

"It's not you that I'm worried about," Keyan admitted. "You know what will happen if you go confront him."

"I am more than aware of that, and also of the consequences, but I can't let it slide this time." Crion's face set into a deep frown when his friend still refused to move. "You won't be able to stand there forever."

Keyan reluctantly stood aside, allowing his Crion to pass. "You're forgetting your saber," he said, glancing to where the weapon was still sitting on the table.

"I won't need it," Crion replied. "But, I do need a favor."

"What is it?"

"I need you to find Anakin and make sure he stays away from this. He likes Sienn a lot, and I don't want him getting into any trouble."

Keyan let out a frustrated sigh as he continued to follow Crion. Keeping Anakin away was easier said than done.


	14. Chapter 14

Charismilena - You will know Xanatos' plans soon enough

sterling5842 – Exactly, Crion is not smart enough to keep himself out of trouble. Actually, I don't exactly know that it's smarts. I think this is more Crion's arrogance coming into play. He thinks he has the whole situation figured out. I like all the master/padawan family mush – they are going to need it because my forecast is angst on the horizon.

**Chapter 14**

Crion neared the training salles, head held high despite the stares and whispers that trailed him. The ugly rumors had made their way through the padawan ranks quickly. He and Keyan had even run into Anakin, who was coming to investigate.

"_Is it true, Crion?"_

"_What do you think, Skywalker?" A scowl twisted Crion's face. "Do you have so little trust in me?"_

"_No." Anakin paused thoughtfully. "I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt Sienn."_

Crion had sent the Chosen One off with Keyan, asking them to go check on Sienn again. Anakin had wanted to follow him, but Crion had ultimately won the battle of wills with an unsettling determination and warning burning brightly in midnight blue eyes. He felt free now. His friends were safely away from whatever was going to happen.

He paused at the door where he sensed Bror's presence. "Master, forgive me," he whispered to himself as he stepped into the large room. Those who were sparring paused as Crion quickly crossed the floor with long-legged strides.

"You low-life, son of a …. Kowakian monkey-lizard," he spat out when Bror turned to look at him.

"Unhappy your little secret got out?" the older padawan replied with a smug smile. "Afraid Master Kenobi might have something to say about it?"

"My master and I have no secrets, as it should be between master and padawan," Crion stated with unwavering conviction.

"Are you so sure about that?" Bror taunted. "I mean, how would you know if he did have a secret?"

When Crion failed to justify the offensive question with an answer, Bror rolled his eyes. "Why are you here, Ryal?"

"I simply want an apology … to Sienn. You will take back what you said in front of all these witnesses," Crion explained.

"I just reported what I saw." Bror shrugged.

"Apparently it doesn't matter to you that you are wrong and that you have damaged the honor of a fellow padawan in your stupidity …"

"Look, whatever happened is her own fault, Ryal." Bror crossed his arms over his chest, stretching up to his full height. "Sienn's had her hands all over you since I can remember … and everyone knows how Twi'leks are."

"What?" Crion spat out in shock.

The statement left him feeling as though someone had punched him in the gut. He glanced to the left, seeing a couple of Twi'lek padawans turn away and begin to leave, obviously uncomfortable at the slur directed at their species.

"Would you care to share those sentiments with Master Gella, Master Vrei, or any other of the well respected Twi'lek masters who call this temple home?" A satisfied smile stretched across Crion's face as he looked around at those watching with keen interest. "I wager you won't have to," he said. "There are enough witnesses standing right here. The news might spread through the Temple by the afternoon meal."

"You …" Bror struggled to control his emotions, his sudden embarrassment bleeding into anger. "You can't deny the facts. Were you or were you not coming from her quarters, alone, at a little past 0200 this morning?"

"I was," Crion admitted freely and boldly, aware he was getting under his nemesis' skin. "And just because you wouldn't be able to spend an evening in the company of a beautiful girl without taking advantage of her, doesn't mean I have the same weakness or shallowness."

At a loss for words at the verbal rebuke, Bror decided to allow his fist to speak. He lunged out. Crion caught the fist and in a quick move, bent the arm, twisting the older boy around.

"You don't want to fight me," Crion said very deliberately into his ear. "You will lose, or perhaps you have forgotten what happened last time. You don't have a saber master here to save your sorry butt when you lose control and get in over your head." Crion pushed Bror away. "An apology," he demanded.

Bror lunged again. Crion caught both arms this time and drove his knee up into his attacker's stomach, dropping him down to the mat before casually stepping back.

"Do you still want to continue this?"

Two other boys moved to flank Crion. Bror waved them off. "He's mine." Instead the boys moved to the door of the room, blocking any chance of escape as Bror called his saber to his hand. "Let's finish this."

"I'm sorry, Bror. I'm unarmed."

"Too bad for you," the teenager sneered.

"You don't want to do this," Crion urged. The awareness that the situation was rapidly getting out of control was immense. He had pushed a bit too far. "Fighting is one thing. Attacking an unarmed padawan with your saber would definitely mean the Council would get involved."

"It's worth it to wipe that smug, arrogant smile off your face."

Bror lunged forward with a downward strike. Crion flipped backwards, trying to avoid the singeing blade. He had never thought Bror would actually attack him with a saber and it was making him rethink the foolish decision he made to leave his behind. Another swipe came. Crion ducked, allowing the blade to slice the air over his head. He put some distance between himself and Bror.

Crion found it suddenly funny that although he had spent hours upon hours refining and practicing his saber technique, he had actually received little training in the temple for defending against a saber attack when unarmed, but he had spared with Bror enough to know how the older teen fought. He could do this. It was just a simple matter of staying out of the way, he thought, just as the blade singed his tunic sleeve. It was actually a comforting feeling to know the saber was on a training setting. If the blade had been at full strength, it would have cut his sleeve and maybe his arm.

Five more minutes, maybe. He could sense a response. Masters were approaching, trying to find the source of the disturbance.

Bror attacked again with a downward slash. Crion dodged to the side. Bror kicked out, a booted foot catching the younger boy in the chest. It sent him staggering. Crion fell, rolling just in time to miss a strike aimed at him.

"Any time now," he muttered to himself as he scrambled back to his feet just in time to get his wish.

"Stop this!" a loud voice bellowed, filling the practice room.

At once, Crion stood still, not wanting to disobey the direct order of Qui-Gon Jinn. It was with a sinking feeling of horror that he realized Bror was not so obedient. Crion put his hand up to shield himself from the strike, catching the searing blade in the palm of his hand. It took him a minute to shake off the shock of the pain and actually let go. He had been grazed and received burns in practice before, but none of those burns had hurt as bad as having the entire surface of his palm in contact with a blade. Crion clutched his arm and crumpled to the floor, aware of a stern, "Stand down, Padawan Talik."

The hum of a lightsaber blinking from existence accompanied the hurried footsteps of Bror's master, Eleta Uaay.

"Padawan, what happened?" Master Uaay asked in concern.

"He came in here to pick a fight with me," Bror answered, wrapping an arm protectively across his abdomen.

"I came to talk," Crion nearly growled, still clutching on to his injured hand. "You were the one who chose to draw your saber while I was unarmed."

"Only …"

"Enough," Master Yoda said, his voice carrying from the other side of the room. "First, to the Healer's Ward you both will go. Then, explain you will."

Some of the padawans gathered began to shuffle toward the doors. "Leave you may not. Need to know what was witnessed we do."

Qui-Gon pulled Crion up to his feet and started him toward the door. "How did you get here so fast?" Crion asked.

"I was meeting with Master Yoda. Anakin commed me from Sienn's quarters with a horrible feeling that you were about to do something incredibly stupid. I can see that his instincts served him well." Qui-Gon let out a frustrated sigh. "I will see that you are situated, and then I will contact your master."

They burst through the doors to the Healer's Ward. It was Bant who met them. "What happened?"

"I got in a fight," Crion said. "I grabbed onto the blade of a training saber to block a strike."

He surrendered his hand, noticing for the first time how blistered and red his normally pale skin appeared.

"Anything else I should know about?" the healer asked.

"Probably bruised ribs where a boot caught me in the chest."

"What am I going to do with you?" she muttered, ushering him into an examination room.

Crion lay stretched out on a cot in one of the rooms. He had made Bant turn off the annoyingly bright overhead lights and was now resting comfortably, his mind light with the buzz of some painkiller. He resisted the urge to try to wiggle his fingers. It wouldn't work. His hand had been completely numbed and was now submersed in a bacta-filled bag.

It seemed like it had been hours. Why hadn't his master come? He felt like a condemned man, waiting for a sentence.

He soon sensed Obi-Wan's presence, more shielded than normal. Crion turned his head to face the wall as the door opened, unable to look his master in the eye. Obi-Wan approached, sat down next to the cot, and waited. He knew that it was impossible for Crion to stay quiet for long.

"This is the part I have been dreading the most," Crion finally said in a near whisper.

"And what is that?" Obi-Wan asked.

"The look of disappointment on your face." Crion shifted, grimacing when he saw the stern lines that etched his master's features. "I wish I could say I felt even the least bit of satisfaction in it, but all that is left is the sickening feeling that I lowered myself to the level of something that ranks below the pond scum in the Room of a Thousand Fountains."

"Then I don't have to inform you of the trouble you are in."

"No, Master," Crion answered contritely. "I will accept the full consequences for my actions."

"What happened, Padawan? I need to understand," Obi-Wan asked, in a stern, but more gentle voice.

"I stayed out too late last night, Master," Crion answered. "I fell asleep. Sienn woke me up when Keyan left so that I could leave. Bror saw me coming out of her quarters and spread some horrible rumors around the dining hall this morning."

"So you thought a fight would help?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I went to talk."

"But you knew that it was highly likely you would provoke Padawan Talik and that this 'talk' would end in a fight," Obi-Wan countered.

Crion simply nodded in response. "I could not just ignore how much he had hurt Sienn. Put yourself in my shoes, Master. What if it had been Master Chun spreading some ugly rumor about Master Tachi when you were younger."

"That's hardly a valid example," Obi-Wan said, clearly trying not to laugh. "The masters would have been picking his teeth up off the floor when Siri was through with him."

"Okay, Master Eerin, then."

"I don't like it when you use Bant against me," Obi-Wan shot back. He took a deep breath before saying, "I probably would have done the same … and I would have been every bit as wrong."

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. "I wish you had talked to me about this before acting."

"You wouldn't have agreed," Crion replied.

"That is the point, Padawan."

Obi-Wan's comlink chimed. He plucked it from his belt.

"Kenobi."

"_Your presence is requested before the Council."_

"I am on my way." Obi-Wan stood, pulling his cloak around him and smoothing it out. "Rest," he told his padawan. "I will back after meeting with the Council to discuss discipline."

As Obi-Wan disappeared through the door, feelings of guilt washed over Crion. Because of his actions, his master had been pulled from a meeting with a senator and was now going before the Council to defend him. He silently vowed to never do something so stupid again.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"_You had better get dressed," Eleta said, shaking her companion to stir him to complete awareness._

"_So eager to get rid of me?" Xanatos asked sleepily, his bottom lip jutting out in a perfect mock pout. She hated it when he made that face. _

"_No … it's just … if my master comes back, we should … I don't know ..."_

"_Ah, yes," he remarked sarcastically, running fingers lightly down her bare shoulder as he sat up. "We wouldn't want to spoil your master's idea that you are still a naïve little girl."_

_The young woman pulled the covers more closely around her body, battling against feelings of shame and doubt, wondering why she had even gotten involved with her fellow padawan. _

"_Don't you worry about what your master would think?" she asked, surprised when she received laughter in response._

"_My master has no absolutely no illusions about my innocence," Xanatos said as he began to dress. "And frankly, as long as I don't get into trouble and it doesn't interfere with my training, I don't think he cares."_

"_Well, mine definitely wouldn't approve," she shot back. "I mean, what would I tell her if she found out?"_

_Panic gripped her. She found it hard to take a breath at the thought of explaining why a man was in her room, let alone in her bed. Gentle fingers against her face drew her from her turbulent thoughts._

"_We aren't doing anything wrong," Xanatos said softly. His tones were sultry and hypnotizing. Lips brushed softly against her neck, quiet whispers filling her ear. "We are both adults. This isn't attachment. It isn't love. It's just two friends enjoying each others' company. That's all."_

_He then passionately captured her lips, leaving her breathless when he pulled away again. When she looked into his eyes, she could almost convince herself that he felt something, that she wasn't being used. Still, she found it hard to understand how he could be teeming with passion at one moment and speak with such cold indifference the next._

_The chiming of a comlink broke the silence. Xanatos reached down and retrieved his belt, quickly silencing the impatient device._

"_Aren't you going to answer it?" she asked. "What if it's important?"_

"_It was just an alarm I set," he explained nonchalantly. "I have to be in the Council chambers for briefing in half an hour."_

"_But you just got in last night," she protested._

"_I know. For some reason the Council seems to sleep better at night with my master and I away from the Temple," he said as he fastened his belt around his tunics._

"_You didn't say you were going so soon."_

_Somehow she had gotten the impression she would see more of him than a quick afternoon in her bed. She should have known better._

"_I believe I said that if you wanted to see me, it would have to be this afternoon," he replied rather pointedly._

"_But, I …"_

"_Look, Eleta," he snapped angrily, something cold shifting through his eyes. "I really don't have the time for a fight now. I can sense my master looking for me."_

_Instantaneous panic spurred her on, and she began to quickly dress, not wanting Qui-Gon Jinn to find her in such a state when he arrived. She had just managed to get herself together when the door chimed. One last look in the mirror assured her that her hair was in place._

_She hurried with Xanatos to the door, worrying her lower lip as it opened. Master Jinn was bound to ask questions._

"_Padawan, you do remember that we are due in front of the Council?" the Jedi master asked._

"_Of course, Master," Xanatos responded dutifully. "I was just leaving." _

"_Padawan Uaay," Qui-Gon said, addressing her._

"_Master Jinn." She bowed respectfully._

_The tall Jedi master started down the hall. Xanatos turned back to her, fingering her face once again. "I'll send you a message when we get situated wherever we are going," he said._

"_Yeah," she whispered to herself as he hurried after his master. "Just like you always do."_

Obi-Wan stepped out of the Council chambers, feeling much better than he had when he arrived. In fact, the feeling of relief was nearly overwhelming.

"How did it go?"

"Master." Obi-Wan offered a warm smile as Qui-Gon got up from one of the benches near the door. "It went a lot better than I expected. Except from grounding Crion from this mission, they have deferred discipline to me."

"So, perhaps what you had thrown out earlier?"

"Yes, that should work fine." Obi-Wan took a glance at the time. "I am going to check on Crion, and then I need to go pack."

"I will tell Anakin that we are having a guest."

Obi-Wan started toward the Healers' Ward, oblivious to the fact that the doors to the Council chambers had once again opened and shut.

"Is your apprentice pleased with the trouble he has caused, Master Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan stopped and turned toward the feminine voice belonging to Eleta Uaay, master to Bror Talik. She was a tall, slender woman, beautiful with long dark hair and light olive skin. For reasons Obi-Wan couldn't quite explain, she had always been hostile toward him and especially Crion. Right now, accusing dark brown eyes stared at him from her face.

"Master Uaay, we have already discussed this before the Council." He was tired and not feeling very diplomatic at the moment. "While I conceded that my apprentice was not innocent in the matter, neither was he the only one guilty. Under the circumstances, I think the Council was quite generous with both of our charges."

"Mine is on three months of probation." She folded her arms across her chest. "In comparison, yours is receiving a slap on the wrist."

"I assure you," Obi-Wan said pointedly. "He will not see it that way."

"I would urge you to have a long discussion with your apprentice about what he was doing in Padawan Mobok's quarters in the middle of the night."

"I have, and as I told the Council, I am confident there was no wrongdoing." He nodded politely, offering a forced smiled. "If you would like to discuss this further when I return, I will have more time then. Quite frankly, I am at a loss to understand the resentment you seem to harbor toward my apprentice."

Obi-Wan turned to leave, the female Jedi master's next words catching him off guard. "I knew his father … very well."

Obi-Wan walked back over to her, keeping his voice low as he spoke. "The only reason you would know of his parentage is because you at one time considered training him."

"A mistake the Council thankfully kept me from making," she replied bitterly.

"Let me ask you." Obi-Wan inclined his head, reigning in his irritation. "What do you know of your parents?"

"Nothing really," she said with a casual shrug.

"Nor do I. For all we know, our parents could be criminals of the worst kind, murderous, treacherous, without conscience. Yet, we have the freedom to be who we are without that knowledge hanging over our heads. I have tried very hard for my apprentice to have the same." Master Uaay seemed thoroughly unimpressed with his plea on Crion's behalf. Obi-Wan took another deep breath, releasing more frustration to the Force before adding, "I trust you have not divulged this information to your apprentice, and that such gossip will not be working its way through the padawan ranks."

"No. I would not disregard a Council directive."

"That is a good thing. Now, if you don't mind, Master Uaay. I am leaving on a mission in just a couple of hours and have much to do before I catch my shuttle."

"Of course, Master Kenobi."

With a curt nod of her head, the Jedi master turned in a swirl of robes and stormed off in the opposite direction. Obi-Wan continued on to the Healers' Ward, centering himself as he found his apprentice's room. As he entered, Crion looked up quickly, betraying that he had been giving considerable thought to what the Council might do.

"Well?" he asked hesitantly.

"The Council was not pleased with your verbal baiting of Padawan Talik, but took into consideration the witnesses that said you were attacked first physically, and then by a saber, and only fought in defense."

"So, what's my discipline?"

"The Council has grounded you from this mission, partly for discipline, partly because you are now recovering from an injury," Obi-Wan explained.

"Who will be taking over the mission?" Crion asked.

"I am still going. I negotiated the previous treaty and have already met with Senator Jikawy. There is no other choice."

"But, you will be alone."

"I will be fine," Obi-Wan assured him, taking a seat on the side of the medical cot. "I completed quite a few missions on my own before I began training you."

"I am sorry, Master," the boy replied with genuine regret.

Obi-Wan had known that this would be Crion's worst punishment, the natural consequences of his actions that would prevent him from fulfilling his role as apprentice. The next part was more of a formality.

"While I am gone, you will be staying with my master and Anakin," he said.

"A fate worse than death," Crion murmured to himself. "I can't just stay in our quarters?"

"You will be on restriction while I am gone. If you are not in class or in the company of a master, you will return to your temporary quarters."

There was no protest, no whining. Crion did nothing without weighing consequences and whether his actions were worth those consequences. Obi-Wan saw only acceptance in his apprentice's eyes.

"I want you to be helpful to Qui-Gon and Anakin; be a proper guest. If you find you are running out of things to do, Bant mentioned she could use help with organizing some files."

"Yes, Master," Crion said with a definite nod.

"I really want to talk more about this when we get back," Obi-Wan added, softening his voice. "Right now, unfortunately, I need to pack. I will check back before I leave."

As he approached the door, he turned back to Crion. Perhaps he just didn't want to leave on such a stern note. "Son of a Kowakian monkey-lizard?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't want to add foul language to the trouble I was already in," Crion explained.

"That makes absolutely no sense, Padawan," the Jedi master replied shaking his head.

The door slid open. Obi-Wan was surprised to see Sienn standing there. "Master Kenobi," she said, bowing respectfully. "I know that Crion is in trouble. I just wondered if I might say something."

She looked pitiful with pleading brown eyes and a sad face. Even her lekku were drooped. Obi-Wan found he couldn't resist the small request.

"Quickly," he said, making a mental note to never take a female padawan. He had a feeling he would probably let her get away with murder.

Sienn approached Crion, studying him with those large expressive eyes. She shook her head sadly for a moment. "You are an idiot," she spat out. "I don't know whether to be touched or appalled at you behavior."

"If you want to lecture, you will have to get in line," Crion replied, shrugging.

The Twi'lek let out a dramatic sigh. "I'll talk to you when you are off restriction. I hope we both aren't old and decrepit by then."

Turning, she offered Obi-Wan one last bow before hurrying from the room.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Skywalker, would you hurry up. We're going to be late."

Crion had never been late to class, at least not unless there was a very good reason like a mission briefing or his master needing his assistance. He wasn't about to start now just because the "Chosen Brat" was dragging his feet.

"I can't find my lightsaber," came a muffled voice from the other room.

"Perfect." Crion muttered as he stomped back to Anakin's room. A couple of choice curses slipped from his lips when he stepped onto something and slipped, only Jedi reflexes preventing him from likely breaking his neck. "It's no wonder you can't find anything in this nerf pen you call a room."

Three days … and his patience was wearing thin … very thin. He had woke up this particular morning to find that in the middle of the night he had rolled into something that Anakin insisted was some kind of grease he used in his projects. Not even wanting to consider what else might be lurking in the corners and under spare parts, Crion had quickly locked himself in the refresher to scrub the foul substance off of him.

"Yeah, well Keyan says that your room is practically sterile," Anakin called out from where he had his head buried beneath his sleepcouch.

"Nothing wrong with that," Crion shot back. "At least I can find my lightsaber when I need it."

"Ah, here it is." Anakin slipped back out from under his sleepcouch, pulling something that was stuck on his robe off and casting it back to the floor.

Crion shuddered. "Come on," he said. "We can still make it on time."

They hurried out the door and through the Temple corridors, Crion hastily trying to bow to masters as they passed by. "When we get back today, we are cleaning your room from top to bottom. It's appalling."

"Yeah, and what if I have plans?" Anakin asked with a smug smile. "You're the one stuck in quarters, not me."

"Yes, I am the one stuck there. And since I will be staying for a while and sleeping on your floor, I don't want to roll into any more surprises in the middle of the night. If you don't show up, I'll just have to clean it myself and throw our anything that looks like garbage," Crion said, returning the smug grin.

Anakin came to a screeching halt. "You wouldn't."

"Good luck finding anything when I'm done with it," Crion said, continuing on.

"Fine, we'll clean this afternoon," Anakin whimpered in defeat.

"I am glad you see it my way." Crion offered Anakin a pat on the shoulder. "And then, when we are done, we will make dinner for your master."

"What?"

"Seriously, he pampers you too much," Crion said, ignoring the Chosen One's outrage. "It would be nice to do something for him."

"I am beginning to wonder just who's being disciplined here," Anakin muttered as they separated and went to their classrooms.

Crion slipped through the door and quickly searched for Sienn. Keyan had already left on yet another mission with his master, something Crion tried not to think about as it reminded him that his own master was out in the galaxy, alone. He slipped into the seat next to the pink-skinned Twi'lek, putting on his best pitiful, sympathy-drawing face when she asked, "How are you holding up?"

"I am going to lose my mind," he whimpered as she began to rub soft circles on his back. She abruptly stopped as Master Nahayti stepped into the room. At least he had a few seconds of sanity talking to her, Crion thought as he turned his attention to class.

"Do you have a minute, Sir?"

Xanatos held up his hand, indicating that he needed just a few moments more of silence. He had just finished a conference call and wanted to get his thoughts in order and recorded before he moved on to a new task. Soren sat down in a nearby chair to wait as his employer finished entering some notes into a datapad.

"What do you have for me?" Xanatos finally asked.

"I did some research on the name you gave me."

Xanatos had chosen to start with children in the Jedi Temple database who were actually named "Crion." Somehow, he felt that Mia would have insisted their son keep his given name, foolishly thinking a false surname would be enough to hide his identity. There had been just a handful, only one that was close enough to his son's age to investigate. He had charged Soren with finding out as much as possible about the boy named Crion Ryal, without drawing suspicion. It had been a difficult task. Security over Jedi records had improved drastically since Xanatos had been at the Temple.

This might be of interest to you." Soren handed over a datapad. "I managed to get this image from a transport station on Talus IV. He looks just like you, Sir."

Xanatos looked the image over closely, trembling fingers brushing over the datapad's screen. The boy was definitely a padawan, evidenced by the long ebony braid that trailed from behind his ear and the fact that he walked behind and just to the left of another cloaked figure. He was the age and size Crion would be, and there was no mistaking the boy's appearance.

"Did you find a name for the Jedi master?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sir."

Xanatos' eyes slid shut. His whole body shook as he struggled to control the flood of emotion that suddenly coursed through his veins – anger, grief, old feelings of betrayal he thought he had laid to rest - his former master's apprentice raising his son.

"I need some time alone," he forced out through clenched teeth. "Leave! Now!"

Soren hurried to comply, a nearby vase shattering as he exited. Xanatos stood and headed for the door. He needed to get out of his office before he destroyed something else with the strong emotion demanding to be released. Clasping his saber firmly in hand, he headed for his training room, hoping he had enough remotes to keep him occupied for a while. Once he had calmed down and was thinking coherently again, he would form a plan to get his son back.

"No! Don't throw that out!" Anakin objected, snatching the small item out of Crion's hand and clutching it protectively to his chest.

"It looks like junk to me," Crion scoffed.

"Yeah, but it's valuable junk," Anakin protested before tossing the object onto the sleepcouch behind him.

"Okay." Crion sighed deeply. "The point of cleaning is to organize and actually put things somewhere, not just toss them around again."

"Can't I just shove it all in the closet like I usually do?"

Crion palmed open the closet, which was about as cluttered as the rest of the room. "No, I told you we were cleaning. Everything is coming out of the closet as well. I'll clear it all out; you decide where it goes."

Crion began to rummage through the closet, tossing things to Anakin. He managed to stick his hand into something he didn't even want to think about, and also, had his finger pinched by some little droid Anakin insisted was broken and needed to be fixed, but finally the main area of the closet was cleaned out. Grabbing a chair for extra height, Crion began to work on the top shelves of the closet. There was probably enough dust to fill one of the sandboxes in the crèche, which led Crion to believe that Obi-Wan was likely the last person to have really cleaned this room. When he began to wipe down the empty shelves with a rag, he saw that a panel in the ceiling was loose. Pushing up on the panel to settle it back into place, he noticed what looked like a box.

"Did you run out of places to store crap and decide to open the ceiling?"

"No," Anakin defended. "What is it?"

"Just a box." Crion sat down on the chair and cautiously took the lid off the box. It smelled old, like the section of the Archives were actual flimsi documents were kept. Inside were a small collection of trinkets, an assortment of saber tournament awards, and a holopic.

"Turn it on," Anakin said eagerly.

"It's not ours," Crion pointed out.

"It's in my room – that makes it mine," Anakin said as he snatched the device away and activated it. The two boys studied what they saw for a moment. It was the image of a much younger, apparently very happy Qui-Gon Jinn standing next to a teenager with a long padawan braid, who was proudly holding up one of the awards. Anakin looked at the image, then to Crion, then back to the image again. "It's you and my master. When was this taken?"

"That's not me. Your master is a lot younger there, and that padawan is probably a couple of years older than I am." Crion paused, worrying his bottom lip as he looked at the image. "It must be his first apprentice.."

"Xanatos." Anakin glanced between the image and Crion once again. "Well, you sure look like him."

Crion snatched the holopic out of Anakin's hand. Butterflies filled his stomach as took an even closer look at the strange teenager's face. It was practically the same face he saw in the mirror every day.

"Wait until we show my master what we found," Anakin blurted out exuberantly.

"Are you stupid, Skywalker?" The room suddenly was very warm, and Crion felt incredibly dizzy. Closing his eyes, he drew on the Force to calm himself. It was nothing more than an eerie coincidence that he looked like Qui-Gon's first apprentice. Although, it did explain the Jedi master's earlier reactions to him. "We shouldn't tell your master about this. Xanatos caused him a lot of pain. Do you want to hurt your master by showing him some old holopic?"

"No."

"Now, promise me, that this will stay between us. Promise, Anakin," Crion pleaded emphatically, hoping that calling the boy by his first name would should how serious he was.

"I promise," Anakin assured him.

"Good. Now, let's finish cleaning this mess up."


	17. Chapter 17

Beloved Daughter – Yes things are picking up.

Thanks to the guest reviews I have received and for everyone who is following this fic

**Chapter 17**

Two more days had passed. Crion had spoken to Obi-Wan once during that time. His master had looked exhausted, but it was very good to hear his voice. Crion had not mentioned the holopic of Xanatos, the resemblance he had to the fallen Jedi, or how it continued to gnaw at him. Having never hid how he was feeling from his master before, it was difficult, but he didn't want to be a distraction to what apparently were more trying negotiations than his master had expected.

It was disconcerting how much of an effect one holopic was having on him. For some reason, he was unable to dismiss it all as coincidence, release his unease into the Force, and move on with life. Qui-Gon kept eyeing him suspiciously, probably thinking he was cracking at being in such close quarters with Anakin. It wasn't far from the truth.

As they cleared away dishes from the evening meal, Qui-Gon finally approached him. "Is something wrong, Crion? You've not been yourself for a couple of days."

"I could really use some personal space, that's all." He shrugged, trying to brush off the Jedi master's concern.

"I understand that Master Eerin has a late shift tonight and could use a hand," Qui-Gon suggested.

Hmm, his choices were a couple of hours of mindless data entry and file organizing, or more quality time with Anakin bugging him to see the holopic he was trying to forget one more time. "Would you mind if I went there for the evening?" he asked.

"As long as you are back before 2200," the Jedi master replied, offering a slight smile.

"Thank you, Master."

Collecting his robe, Crion hurried from the Jinn/Skywalker quarters. Questions kept racing through his mind, and he thought they would overwhelm him. Why had no one ever mentioned his resemblance to Xanatos? He could see why Qui-Gon may not want to broach the subject, but surely his master noticed. After all, he had met the fallen Jedi on Bandomeer. The more he considered the question, the more he didn't like where his line of thought was going.

"I've been expecting you." Bant was working at her computer terminal, back toward the door, but turned as he stepped inside to offer him a sympathetic smile. "You lasted longer than I thought you would. I have everything ready for you here. I will be down the hall if you need me." She stood, offering him the place behind her desk.

Crion lost track of time while filing requisitions for new supplies, organizing files, and various other tasks. Bant returned a couple of times and they talked. It was always fun to hear more about his master's childhood exploits, and Bant was the holder of that sacred knowledge. Finally deciding his brain was about to turn to mush, he decided to call it quits for the night. He had to be back in half an hour, anyhow. He pulled the holopic out of his robe pocket and activated it.

Despite being tired, Crion knew his thoughts would continue to swirl when he lay down for the night. He spun around in Bant's chair a couple of times. Why was he so obsessed with Xanatos Marojni all of a sudden? It was just a stupid holopic. He reached up to rub his forehead, his gaze coming to rest on the terminal in front of him again. There was a way to find out anything he wanted, to settle this all without having to upset his master and Qui-Gon. He was logged into the Healers' Ward network under a healer's name. Yes, Bant had warned him about being nosey, but he was only looking at his own file, after all.

Crion brought up his file, scanning down until he found a header for family. Being related was the most reasonable explanation for looking like someone, besides it being pure coincidence, which this was. Clicking on the link for family information, he grimaced when prompted for authorization from a Council member. That was rather ominous. Everything else in his record he knew. Backing out of the dead end, he hesitated before bringing up Xanatos Marojni's file, shocked to still find it there. There was an image, as with his file, which did nothing to settle the butterflies that had returned to his stomach. Now that he had the file open, he wasn't really sure what he was looking for. He brought up the information on Xanatos' parents – father – Crion Marojni. Seeing someone who shared his name under Xanatos' file sent a shiver down his spine.

"What exactly are you doing?"

Crion quickly spun around in his chair, cursing that he had been too focused to sense the healer walk up behind him. He chose to stay silent, though inside he was bursting with questions he thought she could probably answer.

"Crion, don't make me pull rank on you," she pleaded. "I know the last few days have been rough, but this isn't like you."

"I'm looking for answers," he finally said. "I'm sorry for snooping and assure you it didn't go beyond a couple of files."

"What sort of answers?" she asked gently.

"I know it's probably ridiculous, but when we were cleaning his room, Anakin and I found this old holopic. I'm a bit shaken by how much I look like Master Qui-Gon's former apprentice."

Something worrisome flashed in large silver eyes. "If you have questions about Xanatos, perhaps you should talk to your master about him instead of snooping around."

Something about her voice alarmed him. It was the Jedi healer distraction technique, the soothing tones they used when trying to get someone to do something they didn't want to do, like look the other way right as a big needle was coming toward them. Jedi younglings learned to pick it out at a very young age.

"Master Eerin … just tell me it's all a big coincidence," he begged, letting loose the desperation he felt for this to be true.

"Crion," she began firmly, but gently. "This is something that really needs to wait until your master gets back …"

"Seriously, how bad can the truth be?" he blurted out, his mind latching on to the most unbelievable, worst-case-scenario he could come up. "Am I his son or something?"

"Crion …"

The teenager realized he had left her at a loss for words, something difficult to do to a Jedi healer. Unfortunately, her reaction told him all he needed to know. "I am," he said in a shaky, horrified voice. "I'm his son." Suddenly, he felt numb. "Oh Force," he mumbled. "I have to get out of here."

"Crion, don't go anywhere," Bant said softly. "You need to talk this out. I will call Qui-Gon…"

"No!" He didn't mean to yell, especially not at his elder, it was just that he felt everything closing in on him and needed to get away. "Please … I just need to be alone."

"I don't think it is good for you to be alone right now," Bant urged. "You are very upset."

"You think?" he spat out, reaching up to tug at his padawan spikes. "I just found out I am the son of a man whose name is synonymous with betrayal and the Dark side, who hurt my master and his master. I think I have a right to be just a little bit upset."

"Yes, you do," she agreed. "How about you find an empty room in the ward here …"

"No." She was trying to distract him again, and he wasn't falling for it. Turning, he fled the Healer's Ward. Quick steps carried him away, though he wasn't sure where he was going, just away. Nausea rushed over him, only the thought of how undignified it would be to vomit in the Temple corridors helping him to keep his dinner down. He let out a content sigh when he finally found himself staring at the door to the quarters he shared with his master. Palming the door open, he quickly sought out the refuge of his own room and threw himself on his sleepcouch. Staring up at the ceiling, trying to calm panicked breaths, he could feel the sting of tears in his eyes. Jedi didn't cry, and he was a bit ashamed that he was. Then again, this was a lot for even a Jedi to handle. He knew that the Force could help him make sense of this, if he could just find his center, but there wasn't a chance in hell of that happening right now. He needed his master. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan was worlds away.

Qui-Gon palmed open the door to the quarters shared by Obi-Wan and Crion. After Bant had told him what happened, it hadn't taken any great deductive reasoning to know this is where the boy would come. Opening the door to one of the rooms, he found Crion fast asleep, sprawled on his stomach, holding onto his pillow. Dried tear tracks stained pale cheeks, reminding him that although Crion was a mature and gifted Jedi padawan who often acted older than his age, he was still a sixteen-year-old boy who had learned a hard truth. Right now, sleep was best for him. Qui-Gon slipped off Crion's boots before covering him up with a spare blanket.

Returning to the common room, Qui-Gon sank down to the sofa. Now came a big decision. Did he send the transmission that would inform his already exhausted, former apprentice that the day he had been dreading had finally come? Slipping off the sofa, he knelt down and opened himself to the Force, allowing it to wash over him. Whatever he decided, one thing was true. Crion would wake up with questions, and he was the one with answers.


	18. Chapter 18

Charismilena – Yes, I am kind of putting Crion through hell right now. Although he might not realize it, things can always go from bad to worse. ***cue evil laughter**

sterling5842

Ch 14 – The scene with Crion mentioning Siri almost wrote itself. I had to laugh at what Siri would have done if Bruck had started a rumor about her and Obi-Wan.

Ch 15 – Master Uaay still has some anger issues I bet. It probably didn't help that she thought she found the perfect padawan only to find out her unresolved anger was directed at his father. Too bad she didn't take Crion. I think she got what she feared getting with Bror. As for Obi with a female padawan, I think Obi-Ew on TFN wrote him with a female padawan named Haley. I also think that red_rose_knight wrote him with Leia as his padawan in an AU. Both of those were a long time ago.

Ch 16 – Yes, can't you see it all unfolding now?

Ch 17 – I think Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Crion will all be stronger for finding out now. They are going to need it. Things are about to get unpleasant.

**Chapter 18**

Qui-Gon sat at the small table in the Kenobi/Ryal quarters. Outside the window, the sun brightened the Coruscant sky. Morning had seemed to come quickly, surprising considering he had not slept the previous night. He had spent the night in meditation, breaking only to make arrangements for Anakin for today and to check on Crion once or twice.

Things always seemed much clearer in light of the Force, and in the course of his meditations he had come to peace with his role in answering the questions that Crion would no doubt have. In a way, he was glad that Obi-Wan had been spared this task.

On the table in front of him was a plate of fruit, some sweet rolls Bant had dropped off after her shift was over, and a fresh pot of hot tea. It wasn't much of a meal, but Qui-Gon doubted either of them would really be hungry. Still, with adolescent boys, he had learned it was always good to have food available.

Crion had been awake for nearly half an hour. Qui-Gon waited patiently, knowing that Crion sensed his presence and would come out of the room when ready. Finally, the door opened and Crion exited. He was silent, but his gaze remained fixed on Qui-Gon as he made his way to the table.

Hurt and betrayal … Qui-Gon had seen them both before in those same eyes what seemed like a lifetime ago. Anger simmered just beneath the surface, but it was well controlled at least.

The teenager sunk down to the chair across from him, arms folded protectively around his body. He remained silent for a moment before voicing what sounded somewhat like a demand. "I want to contact my master."

"No," Qui-Gon said firmly. Crion's gaze smoldered with more emotion than Qui-Gon had ever seen from the young man. He breathed a sigh of relief as he sensed the padawan release some of it into the Force. "You have enough experience to understand that distractions, even on the simplest of missions, can be dangerous," the Jedi master continued. "Alerting your master to what is happening would be a significant distraction for him and could place him in danger."

Crion seemed to consider Qui-Gon's words, torn between his desire to speak with the one he thought could help him make sense of everything and his desire to keep Obi-Wan safe. "Master won't be happy that you kept this from him."

"I know," Qui-Gon answered, having given great thought to that as well during his meditations. He hoped that Obi-Wan would understand why he had chosen to handle this on his own.

"Okay," Crion said. "I will wait and talk to my master when he gets back." Standing, he started to return to his room.

"Crion, wait," Qui-Gon called in a gentle but firm tone. The boy paused, one hand resting on the doorframe to steady himself. "I have the answers you want." Crion turned to look at him. Hunger to know the truth flooded his eyes. "I promise absolute honesty if you will talk to me."

"Am I Xanatos Marojni's son?" Crion asked. It was a simple, blunt question to test the waters. He already knew the answer but needed to hear someone actually say it.

"Yes," Qui-Gon answered.

Crion slumped forward, shaking his head from side to side. Qui-Gon half expected him to dash back to the safety of his room, but his curiosity seemed stronger. Somewhat reluctantly, the boy shuffled back to the chair and sat down. "Absolute honesty?" he asked.

"You have my word."

Crion nodded as he took a deep, calming breath. "Does my master know?"

"Yes, he does," Qui-Gon answered.

Long lashes swept down as strong emotion once again leaked into the Force. Crion had dreaded the answer, the feelings of betrayal only intensifying at knowing that his master had kept the secret as well.

"Before you become angry with him," Qui-Gon said, "you need to know that this is something he has agonized over since taking you as his apprentice. It has been hard for him to repay your trust and honesty by keeping something from you."

"Was he planning on ever telling me?" Crion bit back harshly.

"There were many times he wanted to tell you, but it was not his choice alone to make. The Council and I felt it was best to wait until the time was right."

"Until the time was right," Crion repeated somewhat sarcastically. "Like, after I was knighted. That would have been a wonderful gift - In appreciation of your years as a loyal apprentice, I have a bit of news for you, Padawan," the boy voiced in a mocking tone.

"Let me ask you," Qui-Gon posed, ignoring the reaction. "Would you have wanted to know as a 12-year-old, brand new padawan that your father was a fallen Jedi? Would you have been ready to handle that knowledge then?"

"Probably not," Crion admitted after a moment of consideration.

"We – the Council, your master, and I - chose to leave it to the Force's timing, and apparently it wills for you to know now," Qui-Gon said, voicing the conclusion he had come to in his meditations.

"Who else knows?" Crion asked with a slight tremor in his voice.

"The Council, obviously. A few healers." Qui-Gon took a deep breath, knowing that what he said next would hurt. He was tempted to not divulge any more information, but he had promised to be honest. "And also, a handful of masters who considered taking you as an apprentice, but declined."

"Because of my father?" Crion snapped.

Qui-Gon hadn't thought it was possible for the boy to look any more dejected. He gave only a slight nod in response.

"So, did my master take me out of pity or to keep a close eye on me in case I go dark or something?" Crion asked, once again bracing himself for an unfavorable answer.

"No, Crion. He took you on your own merit," Qui-Gon said softly, offering a reassuring smile. "Obi-Wan has always been able to see past your blood line. He knew before he was even knighted that he wanted to train you. The only reason he waited was because he felt _he_ was not ready."

Relief seemed to wash over the boy's face and something close a smile curved his pale lips. Crion reached forward and picked up a muja fruit. "So what's my story, then," he asked as he began to nibble on the fruit. "I got here somehow."

It was promising. Crion hadn't run away and was beginning to eat. There were no angry outbursts or lightsabers ignited.

"So you did," Qui-Gon said, allowing himself a smile. "You weren't much more than a year old when your mother arrived on the doorstep of the Temple asking to see me. She wanted me to help hide you."

"You knew my mother?"

"For a time," Qui-Gon smiled sadly at the memory of the brave and determined woman that had brought Crion into his life. "Her name was Mia. She was very ill when we first met and died not long after you came to the Temple. She loved you dearly. I know that giving you up was hard for her, but she died in peace knowing you were safe."

"Safe," Crion whispered as he began to fidget with the hem of his sleeve. "I was in danger? I mean, do you really think _he_ would have harmed me?"

"Crion, I haven't seen or heard from Xanatos since your master was twelve years old, and I am sure your master has told you all that happened then." Qui-Gon paused as Crion offered a slow nod. "I quite honestly have no idea what kind of man he is now. Offworld has not been engaged in anything overtly illegal since Bandomeer, and it now seems to be respected in intergalactic and political circles. But, from what your mother told me, it was evident that Xanatos still used the Dark side of the Force. She didn't seem to feel that you were in any physical danger, but she didn't want you to become like your father and to use the Force as he did. The Xanatos I knew was a very controlling man and you are his son. He would want you to follow in his footsteps."

"Oh, Force." Crion's face suddenly paled considerably as the reality of his situation became clear. "He doesn't know where I am, does he? He's looking for me."

"Xanatos never gave up easily, so I assume he is still looking you. I know that it is one of the fears your master must constantly release into the Force - that your father will find you."

"And the voice I sometimes hear in my head?"

"Most likely is Xanatos," Qui-Gon answered. "You lived with him for the first year of your life. If he was as actively involved in your life as your mother suggested, it was enough time for a parental bond to form. My understanding is that they can be quite strong."

Crion bowed his head, and Qui-Gon allowed him silence to digest what he had just been told. It was hard enough for Crion to learn who his father was without also finding out that they likely still shared a bond.

"Am I anything like him … my father?" Crion finally asked, choking over the words.

"You're not tainted by his Dark side use or destined to follow that path, if that's what you are asking," Qui-Gon answered. "In appearance, your resemblance is almost uncanny at times - your expressions, your mannerisms, your inflections …"

"Force … no wonder you could barely stand to look at me," Crion tipped his head back, shaking his head again as he stared at the ceiling.

"I will admit that it was difficult for a time after you became Obi-Wan's apprentice. But I quickly learned that you are Crion Ryal, your own person, and you are wonderfully grounded in the Light. You are not your father," Qui-Gon assured him. "Yes, you tend to do things your own way and you tend to be very confident in who you are; you are intelligent, meticulous, neat – sharing many of your father's giftings. But in many ways you are complete opposites. You are outgoing, open, and bluntly honest where he always hid what he was thinking and kept to himself. You have compassion and consideration of others where Xanatos was usually selfish and did what was best for himself. You have self-control that rivals padawans far older than you, while your father always acted on his emotion."

Qui-Gon paused for a moment, realizing that he was talking about Xanatos more than he had in a very long time. It was hard to remember the young man who had at one time been so close to his heart. He closed his eyes, releasing feelings that had not surfaced for years into the Force. In all honesty, he expected Master Yoda to sense all the emotion he and Crion were pouring into the Force and come to investigate. A voice broke into his thoughts.

"You obviously cared about him. Why did you leave him on Telos?"

Qui-Gon's eyes snapped opened. He hadn't expected this sort of question, and it made his heart break. "He chose to leave, he chose his path," Qui-Gon murmured. "He ran away from me.

"He was your apprentice," Crion insisted. "He obviously screwed up royally, but shouldn't you have reprimanded him, hunted him down and dragged him back to the Temple – I don't know, made him see a soul healer, or something?"

Qui-Gon paused for a moment, his thoughts returning to those last moments on Telos where it seemed as though his world had come crashing down around him. "That mission to Telos was not my finest moment as a Jedi master," he admitted hesitantly. "My pride in who I thought my apprentice was blinded me to his faults and struggles. When he betrayed me, I let my emotions dictate my actions. I allowed myself to feel the hurt and act on that … and I lost him."

***

No one had seen or heard from Xanatos in days. Offworld operations had nearly come to a screeching halt. Employees who had been with the company for a long time knew not to ask. Others assumed some sort of impromptu vacation. Only Soren understood that his employer was plotting. He sent reports of the company's activity, not sure if Xanatos would read them or not. But his employer expected him to keep things going as much as possible. It had surprised him when he had received a call that morning saying that Xanatos had come into the office early.

Soren found his employer sitting behind his desk, looking out the window. Xanatos appeared calm and relaxed, much better than he had days ago when Soren had fled his office.

"I have looked over your report," Xanatos said.

"Do you need me to elaborate on anything?"

"No, it all appears to be in order. Thank you for continuing in my absence." That Xanatos acknowledged all was in order was high praise itself, it was why Soren was trusted when others were not. "I have other business to discuss. Have a seat."

Xanatos' back was still turned to his employee as he took in the sight outside his window. The cherac trees were in bloom and absolutely brilliant with their bold shades of pink. Soren took a seat on the opposite side of the desk.

"What is the current situation on Patul?"

Soren thought for a moment. If he had known he would be asked he would have brought his notes. Patul was the third moon of Sraxus Prime. Xanatos had started a small mining operation there two years ago. It was one of several side operations that were not identified with Offworld and only associated with Xanatos through an alias as a way of diversifying his vast holdings. The mine had proven to be devoid of any valuable minerals. Xanatos had just about given up on it being profitable when his scientists found that the caves were colonized by organisms vital to the production of litraxin, a valuable antibiotic that could not be synthesized in a lab. Since that discovery, the operation had become one of his most lucrative, providing jobs and bringing wealth and investment into Patul. The problems with the government of Sraxus Prime were more recent. The planet had begun to challenge the sovereignty of the independent moon, seeking to apply its own laws and taxes. It was quickly becoming a nightmare.

"I spoke to our director of operations, Kriyk, a couple of days ago. The situation there is not improving," Soren explained. "Shipments are being stopped by Sraxian patrols who claim we don't have the proper permits. Chairman Yesil assures us we are operating legally, at least according to Patulan law, but he fears the Sraxian government is trying to take over."

"It appears they already have. It will be only be a matter of time before they no longer recognize our permits to mine or our title. Then they will probably seize the mine." The news might have upset anyone else, but Xanatos only swiveled slightly in his chair, still looking out the window. "It sounds like this is more than attorneys can handle. It is no longer merely a legal issue. It is a dispute between two sovereign worlds. Inform Chairman Yesil that we will support him and take part in negotiations if he seeks Jedi mediation. Tell him that our facilities are open as a meeting place."

"Are you certain?" Xanatos had been confident they could resolve matters without turning to the Jedi, so his change of mind was a surprise.

"I have only one condition," Xanatos added. "He must request the assistance of Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. Tell him that we have heard of him by reputation."

Soren could see where this was going. It wasn't the first time his employer had rigged a situation to suit him. "Won't asking for this Jedi master by name set off alarm bells?"

"No," Xanatos answered confidently, finally turning to look at him. "It is quite common for requests for certain Jedi to be made. Master Kenobi has built quite an impressive reputation as a negotiator, and likely has been requested before now. The Council won't think anything of it."

"Should I tell Kriyk and Chairman Yesil that you will be representing us on Patul?" Soren asked.

"Kriyk is free to speak on our behalf. I will be there to observe, but for obvious reasons, don't want my presence known."

"Of course," Soren said. "Is there anything else before I go?"

"Not at this time." Xanatos frowned at the assortment of datapads stacked all over his desk. "It looks like I need to get caught up here."


	19. Chapter 19

Lillafiore – Once he is over the initial shock, Crion will be able to make peace with his parentage.

sterling5842 – Yes, pretty low standards indeed. I think it hints at Qui-Gon still being ill at ease with how much Xanatos and Crion are alike. It is the differences between father and son that make all the difference.

Furionknight – Thanks

Incognito12 - I think Xanatos never looked into the Temple because of Mia's distaste for the Force. She had little experience with Jedi and he assumed her fear would keep her away. That, and Xanatos just didn't want to deal with that chapter of his past.

**Chapter 19**

The starfighter settled down onto the empty landing pad at the Jedi Temple. It was late in the night on Coruscant, something not readily betrayed by a city-planet that never slept. If anything, the skyline was brighter at night than during the day, alive with dancing and glittering lights.

As Obi-Wan reached to shut off the controls, a lone figure standing by the hangar doors caught his attention. Though he had insisted that Crion not wait up on him, it didn't surprise him in the least to see his apprentice. It was actually a relief to be able to reach out and sense Crion's presence again. Everything about the previous mission had seemed wrong without his padawan at his side. Opening the cockpit, he scrambled out of the fighter and climbed down the ladder.

"Master." Crion offered a quick bow before taking Obi-Wan's travel pack and slinging it over his own shoulder. "It is good to have you home."

"It is good to be back," the Jedi master said, resting his hand on the teenager's shoulder as he looked him over as though inspecting for injury or some other affliction. "It seems my worries were unfounded. You appear to be in one piece and in your right mind."

"Barely," Crion offered weakly.

The words were somber, a mere echo of the customary sarcasm Obi-Wan expected to hear. Only a hint of a smile turned up his apprentice's lips. Obi-Wan knew Crion better than the boy knew himself at times, and something was definitely not right. He doubted that the short stay with Qui-Gon and Anakin was the trouble. Crion was a Jedi and accustomed to more adversity than that. Had there been another altercation of some sort?

As they started toward their quarters, Obi-Wan wished he had some glimpse into what was locked up behind his apprentice's tight shields. But at the same time, he suspected he wouldn't have long to wait. Crion was not one for keeping matters to himself.

The trip through the Temple was not made in silence. There was superficial chatter - stories of the horrors Crion survived in close quarters with Anakin Skywalker, of waking up with goo stuck to his head, of forcing the Chosen One to clean his room, and of seeking refuge with Bant. Obi-Wan decided that he was going to have to speak to Bant about the nonsense she fed Crion. Her stories all seemed a bit embellished. He and Garen hadn't been that reckless … had they?

They finally arrived at their quarters. Stepping inside, Obi-Wan breathed in the ambience of the one place he considered home. Qui-Gon had been here recently; his former master's presence still lingered strongly. The usual smells of the room were overpowered by the aroma of spiced tea.

"You made tea," Obi-Wan commented casually.

"Yes, Master."

"It smells wonderful. It's just what I could use right now." Obi-Wan shrugged off his cloak and laid it over the back of the sofa before taking a seat. "May I have a cup?"

"I'll get it."

Crion returned from the kitchen with two steaming mugs and took a seat across from his mentor. He was strangely silent for Crion, something that was a bit disconcerting. Obi-Wan began to wonder about what could possibly shut his apprentice up.

"What's wrong, Padawan?"

Crion glanced down. After setting his cup on the table, he reached into the pocket of his cloak and retrieved something. Obi-Wan at once recognized the image that sprang to life - Qui-Gon and the very likeness of the boy who sat across from him.

"I found this hidden in Anakin's room while we were cleaning. I know that Xanatos Marojni is my father."

The words flowed freely from Crion's lips, as though he had repeated them to himself many times and they were now becoming reality. How long had he known? Obi-Wan's heart ached at the thought of his padawan without his guidance learning such a hard truth; a truth had been withheld from him by the one he trusted most.

"I am so sorry, Padawan. You should not have had to find out like this. I should have been the one to tell you." Obi-Wan paused, letting out a deep sigh as he tried to figure out where to begin. "Please understand that my intent in keeping this from you was never to hurt you."

"I know you would never do anything to hurt me, Master." Crion offered a gracious nod. "I understand why you didn't tell me."

"You seem to be very calm about this."

"Oh, I didn't react so calmly at first. Believe me." Crion let out a humorless chuckle. "But … I've talked with Master Qui-Gon quite a bit over the past few days. It has helped a lot."

"I see." Obi-Wan paused, taking a minute to release a growing sense of frustration into the Force. Why hadn't Qui-Gon contacted him? The brief flare of emotion didn't go unnoticed.

"Don't be angry with him, Master," Crion said pointedly. "This hasn't been easy on him either. I have asked some really hard questions."

Of course he had. It was Crion that they were talking about, after all. Obi-Wan shuddered at what his master likely had endured, and it softened his indignation.

"We made the decision together to not tell you until you got back," Crion continued. "We didn't want you to be distracted on your mission. Distractions can be …"

"Dangerous … yes, I know," Obi-Wan interrupted. "But Crion, I am not a padawan who needs his master's protection or even a young knight anymore. I am your master, and I needed to know if something significant was happening in your life."

"Master, I don't know. I think it is the will of the Force that this is all happening now," Crion offered with a nonchalant shrug.

And there it was – the words his master had so often said, spoken by his own apprentice.

"It feels as though the distance that has always been there between me and Master Qui-Gon is not there anymore," Crion explained.

"That's good," Obi-Wan said softly.

It was. Crion had so often felt as though something had initially kept him from Qui-Gon's blessing, and for him to finally know that it was nothing he had done had to be a relief. In fact, Obi-Wan felt a burden lifted from his own shoulders. There were truly no secrets between master and apprentice anymore.

Obi-Wan realized that he had fallen silent, staring into his untouched cup of tea. He looked up to find Crion looking at him with concern.

"You look completely exhausted, Master."

"That's probably because I am completely exhausted," Obi-Wan said with a light chuckle.

"You should get some sleep."

"I have a briefing before the Council tomorrow, but that is all. There will be plenty of time to talk more." Obi-Wan offered a smile. "Perhaps we should start with meditation and katas tomorrow morning … as usual?"

"If you're up for it, I am."

"Always, Padawan."

Crion sat with his eyes closed. The sounds of babbling pools in the Room of a Thousand Fountains filled his ears. Fingers danced along his shoulders and down his back. For her slight frame, Sienn was surprisingly strong. It was exactly what he needed after a particularly brutal morning training session. The problem was that he was having trouble just sitting back and enjoying his first day off of restriction.

"Oh, relax," Sienn hissed.

"I found out something," Crion said softly, reaching back to still her hands.

"What is it?" Sienn moved around to sit down in front of Crion.

"My father is Master Qui-Gon's former apprentice, Xanatos."

"You're kidding, aren't you?" Sienn let out a laugh.

"I wouldn't joke about something like this," he replied seriously.

Reaching out, Sienn took his hands in hers. "How do you feel about it?" she asked, concern apparent in large brown eyes.

"We all have parents." Crion shrugged. "I just happen to know who mine are now."

"That's not what I meant."

"I've had time to think about it now," Crion said. "I don't believe that I am somehow hereditarily going to fall to the dark side anymore, but it does leave me with questions."

"What sort of questions?"

"When you first heard about Xanatos, didn't you wonder why? Why did he betray his master? Why did that happen?" When Sienn nodded, Crion continued. "I did too. But somehow now, I feel like I have a right to know."

"Crion Ryal," Sienn scolded, staring into his eyes with a look that he was certain could freeze water. "You aren't thinking of doing something like seeking him out are you?"

"That would be pretty stupid, Sienn," Crion scoffed. "Especially considering my master and Master Qui-Gon have worked so hard to keep me hidden. I just wonder, that's all … questions that will never be answered."

Sienn's comlink began to chime. "That's my master," she said. "I need to go. If you have time after evening meal …"

"You bet."

As Sienn walked off, Crion stretched out on his back in the grass, basking in the artificial sunlight. He might have dozed a bit; he wasn't sure, but he soon sensed the presence of his master drawing near. He rolled up to a sitting position as Obi-Wan took a seat on the ground next to him.

"How did the briefing go, Master?"

"About like usual." Obi-Wan sat there in silence. He looked much better after a good night's sleep and the weight of an entire star system off his shoulders, but something was still bothering him.

"What's wrong?" Crion reached down and ran his fingers through the long blades of grass.

"The Council has asked us to take a mission – we were requested."

"Once again, our reputation precedes us," Crion huffed. "Maybe if we screwed up a few missions, we wouldn't be in such high demand."

"Padawan!" Obi-Wan scolded teasingly.

"It's true," Crion said, looking up.

"So, are you up for a mission? I can tell the Council that it is too soon."

"Master, I'm the one who has been cooped up in the Temple, sharing a room with Anakin Skywalker. You're the one who just got back."

"I think some time away might do you well," Obi-Wan mused.

"No protests here."

"I'll tell them we accept, then. We'll leave tomorrow morning."


	20. Chapter 20

sterling5842 – The storm is definitely coming.

Lillafiore – Crion is mature, but unfortunately aware of it, which is why he tends to be a bit arrogant.

**Chapter 20**

Crion was a Jedi padawan, but he was also a 16-year-old boy with all the energy and restlessness that came along with that. After hours cooped up in a Jedi starfighter, they had been greeted, of all things, with an unexpected stay in quarantine. Two hours of being poked, prodded, complete with a blood sample – like the Council was going to send diseased Jedi to start an epidemic on Patul. They had been deemed healthy – big shock. Now, he felt as fidgety as a youngling in the crèche. True to his training, Crion held it all in behind a calm façade as they were finally shown to where they would be staying at the facilities belonging to the Nustar Mining Corporation.

After a quick trip through the grounds, Artel Kriyk, the rather long-winded director of operations, guided them along through marble paved hallways with vaulted ceilings, pointing out every intricate detail and piece of artwork along the way. One would have thought he had built the company up with his own two hands from the way he rattled on, but Crion couldn't fault him for his exuberance. From what he had read, Patul had been an impoverished dust ball before Nustar arrived. Now the moon was teeming with commerce and dripping with wealth. To the local population, Nustar was a savior, and Artel Kriyk was the face of the company.

Obviously now, the Sraxian government was interested in laying claim to the moon, and more importantly, its wealth. That was why the Jedi were involved. Having seen too many similar situations, Crion felt the negotiations would be fairly straight forward. He had yet to see a situation his master could not bring to peace.

"This is where you will be staying," Kriyk finally said, coming to a stop in front of a set of large glossy doors. "I hope you will find the accommodations satisfactory."

"I am sure they will be more than adequate," Obi-Wan replied graciously.

"In that case, I will take my leave." Kriyk offered a curt bow. "I have preparations for the welcome banquet tonight."

"Thank you for your hospitality," Obi-Wan said as both Jedi master and padawan returned the bow. "We will see you this evening."

The door closed behind Kriyk, and Crion let out a rush of air in relief. He had thought Kriyk would seriously never shut up. Usually such a show of frustration would have warranted at least a note from his master. Instead, Obi-Wan remained very silent and pensive as he pulled off his cloak and laid it neatly over the back of the sofa. The Jedi master's eyes slid shut, features bending in concentration as he continued to stand there. Crion had seen such behavior before and really hated it when his master had bad feelings at the beginning of a mission.

"What's wrong, Master?"

"Not all is as it seems here, Padawan," Obi-Wan answered softly.

"When is it ever?" Crion groaned. So much for straight-forward negotiations. "Do you sense danger?"

"It's not the mission, Padawan," Obi-Wan was quick to say. "Everyone involved so far is eager for our assistance and no one has been hiding anything. It's something in the background … discordant, elusive."

"A trap?"

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan said. "I sense no immediate danger, so we shall proceed, but keep your senses on alert."

"Of course, Master."

Crion began to bounce a little on his feet, the first show of his pent up energy. "I couldn't help but notice the very nice gymnasium we passed, Master. I don't know about you, but I am about ready to crawl out of my skin."

"I would rather you not do that, Padawan," Obi-Wan said with a wry smile. "It makes quite a mess when you do."

Crion cracked a smile. It was good to be at his master's side again.

"Go ahead and change clothes, Padawan. I haven't had the opportunity to really test what my master taught you while I was away."

The small observation area had been built in the last week. Hidden from the main gymnasium behind two-way mirrored plexiglass, whoever was in the small room could see into the gymnasium while whoever was on the other side would only see the mirror's reflection.

"What makes you so certain they will come here?" Soren asked.

"I was a Jedi padawan once," Xanatos said. "They had a long trip and were holed up in quarantine, then subjected to Kriyk. I am sure Crion is practically begging to do something active. The schedule has provided them with ample down time, and a Jedi master would not pass up such an opportunity for instruction."

"I have the data from the boy's blood sample." Soren handed a datapad to Xanatos. "It's a perfect match to your son's DNA."

Xanatos said nothing, accepting the datapad as though it was a long lost treasure.

"Do I need to have security detain them?" Soren continued.

"No," Xanatos said softly. "I need Master Kenobi to negotiate this treaty. I will keep watch over them and deal with the matter when this is done." Xanatos could sense them in the distance, already making their way toward the gymnasium. Jedi were often too predictable for their own good. "You best leave," he said. "They are coming and I don't want you to have to answer any questions. They would both sense your duplicity."

"I will keep my distance."

Xanatos sat down as Soren quickly slipped away. The anticipation was almost overwhelming as he waited for the Jedi to arrive. As they entered the gymnasium, he pulled already strong shields even tighter around his presence. It was too early for either to sense he was near.

"This is great, Master," Crion said. "Plenty of room to spar even."

"Hint taken, Padawan." The Jedi master slid off his boots and placed them in the corner. "I want to see the kata you are working on first – opening position."

Crion – his son – took a place on the mat, directly in front of the mirror. If not for the glass, Xanatos could reach out and touch him. Igniting his saber, the boy held it stretched out in front of him and took an opening stance.

"Good … now begin."

As Crion began to step through the intricate moves, Xanatos remembered performing the same kata when not much older than Crion. Kenobi stayed close, encouraging and offering correction when needed. Xanatos held his breath with each advancement of the exercise, strangely taken by how much he desired Crion to succeed. The boy bobbled – everyone bobbled in that place when learning. But Crion didn't lose focus with the mistake, making the necessary adjustments to proceed as he studied himself in the mirror. Xanatos searched the determined face, so wonderfully like his own. Except, Mia was there - her cheekbones, the elegant curve of her chin, the way the boy clenched his bottom lip beneath his teeth when concentrating.

The exercise came to a close, and Crion looked up to Kenobi.

"I want you to do it again, Padawan," Kenobi said. "This time, with your eyes closed. The mirror distracts you – your eyes deceive you. You will never be able to watch your form when you fight. You must let go of your conscious self and feel your position in the Force."

Long ebony lashes swept down, blocking shining blue eyes. There was a surge in the Force as Crion opened himself up to it, and the lines of concentration faded from the boy's face. Deep down, a part of Xanatos, the bond he had forged with a sleepy infant, yearned to reach out. The fallen Jedi resisted, pulling his shields even more tightly around him. He didn't need the datapad in his hand to know that this was his son. The Force sang of it. His heart leapt at the recognition of something that was a part of him. Xanatos reached up and pressed a hand to the glass, as close as he could.

"Splendid," Kenobi said as he unclipped his saber from his belt. Pulling his tunics off, he folded them and placed them neatly on top of his boots. "So, are you attacking or defending?"

"Defending," the boy voiced after a moment's thought.

"As you wish, Padawan."

Kenobi assumed an opening stance, one that Crion mimicked exactly. Soresu - both of them. Xanatos let out a sigh as he settled in for a long bout. Two Soresu users sparring with each other was essentially an exercise in patience.

The fight began. Crion gave up ground, allowing his master to back him across the mat. His saber was a blur around his body. It was quickly apparent that his son was well trained, something that sent a shudder of pride welling up in Xanatos. He was outmatched, but showed no hint of frustration, keeping a calm that seemed beyond his years. In fact, he made his situation look easy. The only betrayal of his current stress was sweat that flowed down the sides of his face.

Xanatos tore his gaze from his son, turning his attention to Kenobi. The Jedi master's presence in the Force was nearly blinding, as he remembered it had been on Bandomeer so many years ago. A boyish face still lurked under that beard, but the child that Xanatos remembered as insecure, angry, and reckless was gone. Maturity had anchored Obi-Wan Kenobi in the Force. It was hard to see where the ancient energy ended and he began. His eyes were keen and focused, in complete control of the sequence of events. Crion was doomed.

A hint of a smile crossed Kenobi's features before he switched things up a little. He flipped up over Crion's head, landing firmly on his feet behind the boy. Crion pivoted as the attack continued with Ataru. The master's blade was a blur of lightening quick attacks. Crion adapted, but was tiring. He continued to defend before a gap came in his defenses. Kenobi was there, his blade touching to the boy's neck. Crion muttered something that sounded vaguely like a curse, earning him an arched eyebrow.

"You defended well, Padawan."

"So well I died," the boy shot back as he dropped to the floor panting.

"Remember, there will be a day when you will equal me, and I dare say, will score a kill point against me," Kenobi said, sitting down next to Crion.

"Yeah, when you require a hoverchair … maybe."

"I thought I was already in one of those in your mind, Padawan."

Crion laughed. It wasn't the childish giggles Xanatos remembered, but it was musical nonetheless. Obi-Wan playfully tugged at the long braid that hung from behind the boy's ear.

Xanatos pondered all he had seen for a moment. His son was brilliant, though he had expected no less. A part of him had hoped his son existed in a more distant master-apprentice relationship, but it was painfully obvious that the boy and Kenobi were close. That wouldn't change the plan, but it was going to make things more difficult.

He looked to the datapad resting in his hand again, proof that Crion R'yal was Crion Marojni. It was the last piece he needed – irrefutable evidence – essential to his plan. He was about to place himself in one of the most dangerous places in the galaxy, between a Jedi master and his padawan. And one thing was certain after watching the pair spar - he had no desire to fight Kenobi. There was no room for mistakes.


	21. Chapter 21

Lillafiore – I do think that is a very dangerous place, between a padawan and Jedi master.

Incognito12 – Xanatos has a plan.

**Chapter 21**

Crion sat at the small table in their accommodations staring at the two glasses half full of amber liquid that were sitting in front of him. There was a part of him that was jittery. He wasn't really sure how his master was going to react. At least he didn't have long to wait. Obi-Wan swept from the room he had claimed during the negotiations, travel bag packed and swung over his shoulder. He walked past Crion only to stop and turn a half-bewildered gaze on his apprentice.

"Are you drinking?" the Jedi master asked. There was already a high-pitched scolding tone seeping into his voice.

"No, Master," Crion replied calmly. "I haven't had anything, but I thought we could toast to finally resolving this situation." Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, highlighting his already stern visage. Crion decided it was best to do what he always did – keep talking. At times – well, at least on a few occasions - his mouth had actually kept him out of trouble. "The legal age is 16 here, Master. You allowed it at the banquets, so I ..."

"Protocol dictated you participate in the toasts at those banquets," Obi-Wan said as he picked up the two glasses and started for the nearby sink. "As far as social drinking, Jedi padawans are to adhere to Coruscanti law and wait until they are legally adults at 18 standard years of age."

"I have a question then, Master."

"Yes?" Obi-Wan half groaned as he placed a hand to his temple.

"Are Jedi supposed to abide by Corusanti child labor laws as well, because I certainly think that a minor like me being shot at and allowed to run around with a deadly weapon …"

"Crion, my word is final on this," Obi-Wan interrupted firmly. "I promise to share a toast with you after every successful mission … when you are of legal age … and Force help me when you are." The Jedi master lifted one glass in a mock toast before tossing back the contents. He immediately began to choke.

"Are you okay, Master?"

"I can see I will also have to teach you the difference between what is palatable and what is cheap swill," Obi-Wan said between coughs.

"I don't understand," Crion sulked as Obi-Wan disposed of the other glass of liquor. "You trust me with important details on complicated and dangerous missions, sometimes putting your life in my hands." That actually was a scary idea come to think of it. "Why are so sure I am going to have some lapse in judgment and run off and get myself plastered the minute I'm legal?" Silence greeted his query. Obi-Wan refused to turn and make eye contact. A smile stretched across Crion's face. "I see – there's a story here."

"A story that concerns lapses in judgment and is not suitable for your impressionable ears right now," Obi-Wan said hurriedly.

Crion was certain it had to at least involve Master Muln and possibly Master Vos. Those were the two names that always seemed to be involved in his master's adolescent "lapses in judgment". "Bant will tell me," the boy teased.

A presence approached the door right before its chime rang out. Crion groaned. It was Kriyk, hopefully coming to just wish them off.

"Bant and I are going to have a serious talk," Obi-Wan said as he walked to answer the door. "She is much too generous with her stories."

The door slid open. Kriyk beamed as he proudly announced, "We weren't expecting him, but I have come to tell you that Nustar's owner wants to meet you in person to thank you for your services."

"Of course," Obi-Wan began politely only to be interrupted by a second voice.

"That will be all, Mr. Kriyk. You may go."

Crion didn't recognize the deep sultry tones, though something about the voice seemed distantly familiar. He was too alarmed by the fact that he had missed a second presence to give it much thought. As he started to his master's side, the owner of the mysterious voice stepped into the door frame and a powerful, barely tamed presence bled into the Force. Crion didn't have a chance to react to the tall man clothed entirely in black – his father. Obi-Wan had already stepped in front of him with saber in hand, ready.

"Stay behind me," the Jedi master whispered, giving a suspiciously desperate nudge through the Force.

"I understand your need to be protective, Master Kenobi," Xanatos said. "But I wouldn't harm my own son."

A gaze of the same deep blue Crion saw in the mirror every day shifted to him as though gauging his reaction to what had just been said. Crion jutted out his chin and met the stare evenly, betraying no emotion.

"So he knows," the fallen Jedi murmured.

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied.

"That will make this all the easier then. You are free to go, Master Kenobi," Xanatos announced as his gaze shifted to meet Obi-Wan's. "Crion, however, will be leaving Patul in my custody."

"That's not going to happen," Obi-Wan said firmly. The statement was punctuated by the sound of the Jedi master's saber splitting the air.

"Careful, Master Kenobi." Xanatos chided with a thin smile as he pulled back the side of his long, dark cloak revealing the saber that dangled from his belt. The tension thickened in the room. Crion could feel his own heart pounding in his chest.

"I believe we are both capable of resolving this without violence, Master Kenobi." From within the folds of his cloak, Xanatos pulled out two datapads and set them on the table. "I have prepared something for you both to read. Please give it due attention."

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked.

"A glimpse of what will happen if my son does not leave with me," Xanatos warned, challenge flashing in his eyes. "I will give you some time to look it over and come to a decision." Adjusting his cloak, the fallen Jedi gave a curt nod and started to leave. "Oh, I would advise against making any attempts to escape. Nustar is in a complete security lockdown – that goes for communications as well. Your ship is grounded until I give my authorization for it to be released. Also be aware that should something … unfortunate … happen to me, my attorneys have been instructed to proceed with everything you will read in those datapads on my behalf."

The door slid shut. Master and padawan sat in silence for a moment. Obi-Wan was the first to reach for one of the datapads, settling down in one of the chairs as he began to read. Crion followed, more than a bit disturbed by Xanatos, and a confidence that had long since passed into the realm of arrogance.

The documents were legal briefs, full of complicated and intimidating language. Fortunately, it wasn't much different than the language of treaties, and Crion was able to follow. The only problem was that he couldn't believe what he saw – the audacity. How long had his father been planning this? He finished reading and looked up to find his master resting bearded chin on folded hands, eyes closed, deep in thought. The Force spun and twirled in all its brilliance around the Jedi master as he continued to meditate.

"Is he serious?" Crion finally blurted out, not content with silent contemplation. "Can he really do this?"

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, his brows furrowing in deep consternation. "Yes," he answered. "You know the rules about accepting children into the Order. Technically, the Council did violate galactic law when we took you into the Temple. We had your mother's permission, but did not contact your father. He has the right to press criminal charges and the burden of proving that you were indeed in danger rests with the Council."

"Kriff." Crion raked his hands through short padawan spikes. Usually he didn't come unraveled so easily, but the implications … well, the fact that he hadn't been reprimanded for his language at least confirmed the seriousness of the situation. "I have to go with him then."

"That is not an option," Obi-Wan snapped back abruptly. There was something about his master's tone of voice that Crion didn't like. "We will find another solution."

"Master, you read it. You do understand what he will do, don't you?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said softly, having gained a measure of control. "He is going to press criminal charges against Master Yoda, Master Qui-Gon, the entire Jedi Council, and me."

"I don't want that to happen over me."

From what Qui-Gon had told Crion, the last time the Order had taken on Xanatos in the courts, after Bandomeer, it hadn't gone well. Despite both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan testifying and an overwhelming amount of evidence, the fallen Jedi had come away with what amounted to the proverbial slap on the wrist.

And even if the charges didn't stick, the debacle itself would drag the Order's reputation through the mud. The very thought of the twelve wisest and most revered beings in the galaxy been arrested and led from the Temple, put on trial, accused of kidnapping – it put a sick feeling in his stomach. It made him angry. How many systems already believed that Jedi stole children? How many more would? It would threaten the trust the public had in the Jedi Order.

"Fortunately, the choice is not up to you," Obi-Wan said gently. "Be mindful of your thoughts, Padawan. Xanatos wants us to act emotionally."

And therein was the problem. His master was not thinking like a Jedi at all. No Jedi would allow the Order to fall over one individual. Obi-Wan was thinking like a Jedi master protecting his padawan. The grief of the entire situation was etched over the master's face, though only apparent to one who had been at his side through many trials.

"Master, I am one person …"

Even as the words left his mouth, he thought he would vomit. What was he doing – trying to convince his master to send him away?

"No …"

Crion wanted nothing more than to accept the protection that was his right as an apprentice, but in his mind's eye, sapphire clashed against crimson, strengthening his resolve. His master would prevail, of that he had no doubt. Then how much trouble would Obi-Wan be in – a father facing his son's kidnapper only to be maimed, possibly killed. It would only spiral downward from there, and Obi-Wan knew that.

"Master, me going buys you time - the Council time - to think this through and form a defense." Crion resumed raking his hands through his hair, astonished at the nonsense spilling from his lips. "I mean, worst case scenario – it's less than two years."

"That does not make any sense, Padawan."

"We were just talking about it. I'm an adult in two years, and legally, Xanatos Marojni will no longer have any say in my life. I can come home. I know I will be behind, maybe knighted a bit later than my agemates, but I can catch up, Master … that is if you will still teach me."

"Of course, Padawan," Obi-Wan said in a voice think with emotion as he rested his hands on Crion's shoulders. Closing his eyes, he let out a deep sigh and shook his head. "But, this is all wrong."

"I don't sense that he means to hurt me."

"I am sure he will do no bodily harm, but there are other ways to hurt someone." Concern clouded his master's usually sharp eyes. "You will have to be every bit yourself. Test everything he says."

"Of course, Master." Crion half chuckled, more out of nerves than any real humor in the situation. "It's me we are talking about. He'll be begging you to take me back in a week … or less."

"I am serious, Padawan," Obi-Wan replied firmly. "Xanatos is a very manipulative individual, full of alluring and misleading words."

"You don't trust me?"

"I trust you with my life, Padawan," Obi-Wan assured him. "But you are still a 16-year-old apprentice with your training well ahead of you. This is a trial you should not have to face yet." Obi-Wan clenched onto his saber tightly, making Crion worry that he might just spring to his feet and take the door down.

"I can take on a mission of my own," Crion suggested. "If I can find evidence of criminal activity, it might help."

"And I will do all in my power, call in every favor … even seek an audience with the Chancellor himself …"

"Like he's going to help," Crion half snorted.

"Anakin has his ear, and I dispatched a Sith from his homeworld once – saved his queen. Perhaps that will count for something."

Crion felt his throat tense up. His master had always downplayed the importance of being the first Jedi in a thousand years to destroy a Sith and never brought attention to himself over it. To know he was important enough for his master to consider exploiting that meant more to Crion than the Jedi master likely understood.

"We don't have much time left," Obi-Wan murmured.

"There is something I need to do." Crion took a deep breath and pulled a small shiv from his belt. Reaching up, he pulled the braid that proudly fell from behind his ear taut …"

"No." Obi-Wan stilled his hand.

"He won't let me keep me, Master," Crion said, annoyed at a tear he felt forming in the corner of his eye. "I am not going to have him cut it off or discard it or something. You should have it."

"Allow me then?"

Crion nodded. Obi-Wan took the shiv, a long moment's hesitation before he severed the braid. Rolling it almost reverently, he tucked the hair into a pocket on his belt. For the first time, Crion recognized the feeling punching around in his gut – fear.

The door chimed. Obi-Wan did something not characteristic of himself. Although, Crion had never doubted that his master cared for him, shows of affection were always subdued and reserved. But now, he grabbed Crion into a near bone-crushing embrace. "Don't be afraid."

Crion returned the embrace. The chime rang again. Obi-Wan stood, composing himself and his robe before answering the door. Xanatos stood there expectantly. Another man was at his side.

"Have you come to a decision?"

"Because you have left us no other choice, Crion will be going with you," Obi-Wan replied coolly. "Do not consider it agreement on my part."

"I wouldn't presume such a thing," Xanatos shot back before turning his attention to his son. His tone softened as he said, "Crion, please follow Soren. He will take you to our ship. I have a few things to discuss with Master Kenobi."

Crion shot a hesitant glance toward his master who nodded. Then he was gone.

"I do not presume that this is easy for you," Xanatos began immediately. "It is more than obvious that you genuinely care for him, and for that I thank you. You saw his potential and saw past me when there were many on the Council who probably would have seen him rot in Agricorps to spite me."

"Please, think of your son," Obi-Wan pleaded softly.

"I am."

"He is Jedi to the core," Obi-Wan continued. "He has friends and others he cares about at the Temple. He has a life there and he is happy."

"That sounds strangely like attachment, Master Kenobi." A hint of a smile stretched the older man's lips. "Like you said, he is Jedi. He will adjust. He is no longer your concern."

"He is my Padawan. He will be my concern until the day I join the Force," Obi-Wan replied, allowing every ounce of determination he felt to seep into his voice. "You will listen carefully to me. Threatening the Order, the Council, Qui-Gon – that's one matter. I would gladly give my life for Crion a thousand times over. If you treat him with less value than that or if harm comes to him, you will have a greater problem with me than you can possibly imagine."

"That sounds strangely like a threat, Master Kenobi."

"Yes, and I seldom make them," Obi-Wan said in low tones. With his apprentice now away, he felt free to show a little more emotion. "This isn't over …"

"Good day, Master Kenobi," Xanatos interrupted. "Once we have safely made a jump to hyperspace, communications and your ship will be released to you. As promised, you may go safely."

Xanatos spun on his heel and exited, the door shutting behind him.

Obi-Wan felt his knees give way, his stomach in knots as he sunk to the floor.


	22. Chapter 22

Lillafiore – I think there would be a lot less of all this falling to the dark side nonsense if there were less repressed emotion in the GFFA.

Furionknight –Thanks

Odele – It would be nice to see peace between the three of them. We will have to see what the muse has in store.

Incognito12 – That is Xanatos' problem. He loves Crion, just like he loved Mia. But, he has this tendency to think of what he wants but not at how it will affect those he loves.

**Chapter 22**

With hesitant fingers Crion brushed against where his padawan braid had hung not long ago. It was definitely gone. This wasn't some sort of horrid nightmare he was going to wake up from and have to explain to his master. Taking a deep cleansing breath, Crion dropped his hands back in front of him as he shrugged deeper into his robe. He felt shaky and wasn't used to having such tenuous control over his emotions.

The thought that he was winding through the corridors of the Nustar facility with little knowledge of where he was or where he was going suddenly struck him. He returned his attention to his guide realizing that he knew very little about him except that Xanatos had called him Soren and apparently trusted him, which seemed significant.

The man was powerfully built. A slight bulge in his jacket from a shoulder holster pointed to the fact that he was at least armed with a blaster. He was possibly part bodyguard, though Crion wasn't really certain what Soren would be protecting a former Jedi from. At least he sensed no malicious intent, really nothing other than excitement and a strong sense of pride.

The object of his observation turned, a smile breaking out across rough chiseled features as he stopped. "So … do I pass?"

"Pass?"

"You've certainly had time to dissect me by now and I am wondering if I passed inspection."

"Oh, was I that obvious?" Crion asked. Usually he had everything he needed to know and the subject was none the wiser.

"No, but I have gained some understanding into the behavior of Force-sensitives," he said with a chuckle. "I have worked for your father going on 20 years now."

"Then I suppose you know him pretty well," Crion suggested, deciding to test the man's loyalty. It was usually exuberant subordinates who gave the best information.

"I know as much as he trusts me with," Soren replied with a curt nod of the head. "Your father is a very private person."

"I see," Crion mumbled as they started down the corridor again.

"I will tell you that since you landed here, he has been happier and seemed more at peace than he has in a very long time."

Crion let out a humorless chuckle. "Well, I am glad that completely disrupting my life has brought him so much joy."

Soren stopped and slowly turned back to face him. "He loves you."

"He has a funny way of showing it," Crion shot back.

"If you understood even half of what he's gone through to find you …"

"I didn't ask him to come find me."

"He didn't ask for you to be taken away." Soren let out a deep sigh. "I have three children of my own. And if I ever lost any of them, I would do no less than your father has done to find you."

Crion realized that he was a jumble of emotions again and his frustration at his situation was getting the best of him. He should be able to sense his master but Obi-Wan was strangely shielded. Glancing back toward where he knew his master to be, the sudden worry that perhaps he had given in for nothing – that Xanatos was taking his master into custody or worse.

"My master …" Crion began.

"You father is a man of his word," Soren assured him. "Master Kenobi will be allowed to leave safely as promised."

Crion hadn't even realized that they had made their way into a hangar. Sitting in the middle was a sleek ship, a latest cutting-edge design he vaguely remembered Anakin rattling on about. In fact, if Anakin were here he would think he had died and joined the Force.

They made their way up the landing ramp. Apparently this was an entrance just for passengers as it led into a lounge area of sorts. Crion had only once in his apprenticeship, when escorting a senator, traveled in a ship so lavish. Soren led him to a door.

"You can wait in the lounge area or here in your room. Your father will be along shortly," Soren said. "I am going to see that the ship is prepped and ready."

Crion hurried into the room. The door slid shut leaving him alone, feeling as though he was drowning in uncertainty. He sat down on the sleep couch before stretching out, suddenly feeling as though he was 14 years old again. That was the first time he had been separated from his master on a mission.

Suddenly warmth and reassurance permeated his bond with Obi-Wan. It helped to settle him. Crion held onto his master's presence as he felt the first vibrations of the ship's engines and it began to lift off. It slipped away like sand through his fingers, evaporating as the ship entered hyperspace.

It wasn't long before he sensed Xanatos approach. His father paused outside his door. There was something jittery about the fierce Force presence he had sensed earlier – almost like nervousness. Crion was surprised to hear an actual knock, assuming his father would disregard his privacy as easily as he had everything else.

"Come in."

The man who entered his room seemed quieter and more composed. He approached and sat down in a chair across from Crion. It was eerie to look into his own face in a way. Crion's eyes were briefly drawn to the scar that marred his father's cheek and he remembered Qui-Gon's account of that day.

"It was brave of you to agree to come," Xanatos began.

"It's not like you really left me much choice," Crion shot back.

"I was a padawan once and I know that if you and your master had not been in agreement, he never would have allowed you to walk out of that room, no matter the consequences."

"And it would have been yet another instance of Jedi masters killing fathers for our family history book."

The words rolled off Crion's tongue without a second thought. A sick feeling settled in the boy's stomach at realizing that he had lashed out wanting to wound the man sitting before him and apparently had done a good job.

A flare of hurt surfaced in Xanatos Marojni's eyes. It was quickly buried but the tense motion of his throat as he swallowed betrayed that the remark was not forgotten. Xanatos rested his chin on his fist, focusing on his son's eyes.

"Are you that certain I would lose?"

It really required little thought to answer. "My master killed a Sith lord when he was still a 25-year-old padawan – one I might add, that left Master Qui-Gon nearly dead." He felt his hands trembling and looked away, finally putting a name to his inner foe – anger. "Trust me, by coming I saved your life. A little gratitude …"

He turned back to find Xanatos in his face. "I understand this is very difficult for you, but you will control your anger as you have been trained," his father said very sternly. "I will not have you flirting with any dark emotion while in my care."

"I get it," Crion snapped back. "Do what you say, not what you do?"

"And I will not tolerate disrespect. You have been taught better," Xanatos continued.

Crion bowed his head. Xanatos was right. He was not acting very much like a Jedi at the moment. "You're right. I would not want to dishonor my master's teachings." Still, a part of him refused to lose the argument. "I promise to be more courteous, but respect is earned and you still have a long way to go."

His father took a deep breath before offering a forced, "fair enough." Another deep breath and Xanatos smiled. "Tell me, what does Master Kenobi think of his apprentice's sharp tongue?"

"My master has never asked me to be someone I am not, and I don't intend to start now," Crion replied defensively. He wrapped his arms around his body, still a jumble of emotion. Finally, he said, "I could really use some time alone right now."

"Crion …" Xanatos began gently.

"I don't feel like myself right now and really need to sort out …"

"Let me help you," Xanatos offered, placing a hand on his son's shoulder and offering a reassuring squeeze. Crion didn't miss the brush against his mind and hastily threw up strong shields.

"Please," he asked softly. "Just give me the trip to … to wherever we are going to pull myself back together."

"Of course." Xanatos stood to leave, stopping at the door only to say, "And we are going to Telos. We are going home."

The starfighter sat down on the landing platform at the Jedi Temple. As Obi-Wan hurried to climb out of the cockpit, he noted the tall figure standing waiting for him.

"I thought you and Anakin were leaving on a mission," Obi-Wan said as Qui-Gon approached.

"I requested reassignment when I heard what had happened." The Jedi master's lips twisted into a sad smile. "For once, the Council appears to have agreed with me. I did not even have to ruffle any feathers."

Qui-Gon draped his arm over his former apprentice's shoulders; the younger man instinctively fell into the embrace.

"I need to see the Council," Obi-Wan said.

"You look awful. When was the last time you slept?" Qui-Gon asked. "Did you rest at all on your trip back?"

"I have found rest elusive," Obi-Wan mumbled. "Instead, I have been meditating on my failure as a master."

"Failure?" Qui-Gon said in that way he always spoke when fishing for elaboration.

"Did I not just leave my apprentice in the custody of a known Dark sider?" Obi-Wan offered, taking a deep breath to make sure there were no cracks in his façade. The grief reminded him too much of those days after Naboo and the uncertainty of not knowing what would happen to Qui-Gon.

"The Council has reviewed the document you sent and had various legal experts review it as well. Xanatos outdid himself this time. You had no choice," Qui-Gon assured him.

"I had a choice," Obi-Wan protested. "I had the choice to protect my padawan."

"I sometimes wonder which is stronger – the master's desire to protect the apprentice or the apprentice's desire to protect the master," Qui-Gon murmured.

"Master?"

"Crion would have never allowed you to get yourself in trouble and you know that."

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan said softly, reaching up to rub his eyes. "I just need to speak to the Council. They should have reached Telos by now."

"You need sleep."

"Xanatos may contact the Council," Obi-Wan continued in protest.

"I will stay in contact with the Council and wake you immediately if anything important happens."

Two able negotiators accustomed to getting their way could go around in circles forever, but Obi-Wan was too tired to argue with Qui-Gon anymore.

"I can't go to my quarters … not right now," Obi-Wan finally admitted. The thought of returning there knowing that Crion would not be joining him just added to how weary he felt.

With his arm still draped over the younger man's shoulders, Qui-Gon began to lead Obi-Wan away from the hangar.

"Then you will stay with Anakin and me for the time being, and when you are rested we will face this together."


	23. Chapter 23

Incognito12 – Xanatos really wants to win his son over and be a father. However, he might find that he doesn't have a clue what that really means at the beginning.

Geri K – Once again, Xanatos is bullying his way into what he wants, and hurting someone he truly does love in the process.

Lillafiore – Leave it to Crion to hit the mark – ouch.

IBG – Xanatos knows his old ways aren't going to win him his son, but they are his old ways and are hard to part with. It should be an interesting journey.

**Chapter 23**

Crion had been blessed with solitude for most of his trip. Soren had knocked a couple of times with offer of a meal. Both times, he had declined. Time was too valuable.

Crion had begun his meditations, carefully dissecting his thoughts and feelings, banishing his anger and frustration with his situation to the Force. It was only a hindrance. There was nothing he could immediately do to change his circumstances. Once he had pushed the chains of emotion aside like a Jedi, he was able to look at his situation calmly.

To be completely honest with himself, he had to admit that it had wounded his pride to have the poster child for Jedi padawans-gone-bad reprimand him for anger. But that was in the past, and it was time to show Xanatos Marojni who exactly Crion R'yal truly was.

This was no different than any mission, or at least that was what he tried to tell himself. In reality, everything was twisted. The enemy was family and so far seemed to be no threat. Still, the guidelines he followed on missions needed to be followed here as well. First off, he needed to keep his mouth shut – always easier said than done.

A hesitant knock at the door caused him to look up. He willed his body to move to answer, grimacing at the pins and needles that shot up through his legs. The door opened, and Xanatos offered him a warm smile.

"There is something I would like to show you … if that is okay with you."

Apparently, someone else had decided to adopt a more diplomatic stance as well.

"Of course," Crion replied with a nod of the head, in a polite tone reserved for many of the irritating dignitaries he'd had the misfortune of meeting since becoming an apprentice.

Xanatos took a seat in the lounge area, leaning forward to stretch his neck. He looked as stiff and tired as Crion felt. Crion settled into the seat next to him, glad for the plush cushions after hours of kneeling on the floor.

"You don't look like you slept any," his father observed.

"I had too much to sort through," Crion answered softly. "Besides, I never sleep well in space. I always feel too cooped up."

"I completely understand … and apologize if I passed that particular trait along."

Crion lightly clenched his bottom lip between his teeth as a subtle reminder to not say the first thing that popped into his mind. He didn't want a lecture about how alike they were. Xanatos knew nothing about him.

"I know that you are not usually this quiet," Xanatos said, turning to face him again. "I gave much thought to what you said and I want you to be who you are. I want you to feel free to speak what is on your mind …"

"I don't think you are ready for that," Crion said with a chuckle. "Anyone who gives me that license usually gets exactly what is on my mind,"

"I value honesty … and I will never learn anything about you if you never say anything."

The ship rumbled ever so slightly as it fell out of hyperspace. In such a high quality ship, the familiar motion was barely noticeable. Still, the streaks of stars settled to pinpoints of light and a planet could be seen in the distance.

"That's Telos – our home."

Crion opened his mouth to speak only to be interrupted by Xanatos. "Now, before you correct me and say that Coruscant is your home, I want to remind you that your beginnings are here. It is your home planet."

Crion sat in silence, transfixed as the ship passed from orbit to atmosphere before blending into lines of traffic in a majestic city. Tall elegant buildings reached high into a deep blue sky, disappearing into the clouds above. It was as though someone had taken a city from the Core Worlds and transplanted it on Telos.

"We are entering Thani, the capitol. You seem surprised," Xanatos observed.

"This isn't exactly the image I get when I think of the Outer Rim."

"Not all worlds out here are impoverished dust balls," Xanatos countered, obvious pride coloring his words.

Crion took a deep breath, deciding to test his father's assertion that he valued honesty. "I actually got the impression from what I've read that Offword had destroyed much of the planet."

"You are correct," Xanatos replied after a moment's silence. "Offworld was not always the respectable upstanding company it is now. It has taken a lot of time, effort and resources to restore Telos to what it is now."

"Why the change? Why destroy it then build it back up?"

"Life changes us, Crion," Xanatos answered with a gentle smile. "I became a father and wanted a home my son could be proud of."

Crion settled into silence again. He stared straight ahead, aware of the slight glance directed at him. Did his father really expect him to believe that he had gone from destroyer to philanthropist for his sake? Xanatos allowed him his silence as the ship continued south of Thani and neared Offworld headquarters. The ship settled down in a large hangar on the estate grounds.

Through the viewport, Crion could see a small group of people waiting. Xanatos noticed them as well and let out an irritated sigh as he motioned for Soren.

"Please see to those waiting. Tell them I will be in my office shortly to attend to any urgent matters requiring my direct attention."

"Yes, Sir."

Xanatos waited until the hangar emptied before standing.

"Shall we?" he offered.

Crion followed him out off the ship, making the short trip to the house as Xanatos explained the layout of the estate. "Offworld offices are to the north at the main gate. This is our residence."

They transversed the halls, Xanatos pointing out various rooms as they went. As with any mission, Crion did his best to construct a mental map of his location so that he was aware of his surroundings. Xanatos finally came to a stop in front of a door, pausing to finally ask. "What do you think?"

"It's nice," Crion said in his best diplomatic voice.

"That doesn't sound like the brutal honesty I was warned about?" Xanatos chided.

"And I said that you're not ready for that."

"Try me …" Xanatos insisted.

"Fine … don't you think it's a bit much … a tremendous waste of space for one or even two people?" Crion asked.

"A typical Jedi response … nothing shocking there," Xanatos observed. "Now, place your hand on the consol."

Crion did as asked and the door slid open to reveal a large suite, set up with a sitting area and a private room and refresher off to the side – his new home, he realized.

Xanatos' comlink began to chime. A muffled curse fell easily from the fallen Jedi's lips as he plucked the offending device from his belt.

"I am going to leave you to get settled while I put out a few fires in the office," Xanatos said. "I realize this has all happened quickly and that while I have had time to prepare for it you have not. If you would like to record messages for friends, I will see that they are sent."

"And one to my master?"

"Not at this time …"

"Why not?"

"I would like to see how you adjust before I make a decision on whether or not to allow you contact," Xanatos said with a firm tone that warned against any challenge … or dared him to challenge … Crion wasn't sure.

"So, I assume all my personal messages will be screened from now on."

"That is up to you. You told me that respect is earned – the same is true of trust and I hope that I can trust you."

Xanatos comlink chimed again, earning an icy glare. Crion was certain that whoever was on the other end was about to get the tongue lashing of his or her life.

"I will be back to get you for evening meal and we can talk more then. I have questions and I am sure you many as well." Xanatos turned to leave. "Oh, and you will find something suitable to wear that should fit in the closet."

"Suitable?"

"Not Jedi tunics."

"Fine, but I am not giving up my saber."

"I would hope not," Xanatos said with a smile as he exited the room.

Crion glanced around the room, rubbing a hand across his face as his father left the room. He eyed the communications panel and decided that he best make use of the offer to send messages to Key'an and Sienn. There would be time to explore later.

* * *

Obi-Wan stood outside the large doors leading into the Council chambers, pausing to compose himself one last time before entering. He leaned forward to catch a glimpse of his reflection in the polished metal, hoping he really didn't look that bad.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, Master," he replied as both Jedi masters step through the door, side by side.

It took every ounce of Obi-Wan's Jedi reserve to keep from reacting to the holographic image of Xanatos Marojni standing in the middle of the Council room.

The faces of the Council members were shuttered, though Mace looked highly displeased. Master Yoda's face was pensive but sad. His attention shifted as Obi-Wan drew near.

"Arrived Master Kenobi has."

Xanatos turned, his eyes drifting from Obi-Wan and coming to rest on taller man standing beside him. Narrowed eyes were the only greeting he offered his former mentor before he focused on Obi-Wan.

"Master Kenobi, Crion will be delighted to hear that you have arrived safely home as promised."

"Where is Crion?"

"Settling into his room. I have given him leave to send messages to his friends so I am sure he is busy at the moment." Xanatos let out a deep breath. "I am sure we are all busy so I will get to the point. I could have simply relayed this to the Council but they insisted on waiting for you."

"I am here now."

"I can see that," Xanatos snapped back before turning to address the Council. "I need for Crion's academic and medical records be sent to me."

"Understand that we will need to edit out of his medical records what is confidential to certain missions."

"Of course."

"In case he forgets to tell you," Obi-Wan began. "He is allergic to sai root …"

"It makes him break out in hives and vomit violently," Xanatos interrupted, a strange smile tugging at his lips. "I had the misfortune of feeding it to him for the first time." The fallen Jedi shook his head, brushing off the nostalgic moment. "Master Kenobi, if you could send any personal items along, I know Crion would be grateful. His friends are welcome to return the messages sent to them."

"What about other communication?"

"I will be in touch when I feel he is ready."

The transmission blinked out abruptly, and Obi-Wan found himself struggling to compose himself, certain the eyes of all twelve Council members were on him.

"Did he speak of the documents he sent?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Only to say that what he had presented was final and the terms were not open for discussion," Mace answered.

"Our hope lies in making a case," Obi-Wan murmured, reaching up to rub his face. He felt strangely weary again. "I will put the information Xanatos requested together and see that it gets to him."

Qui-Gon's hand on his shoulder pushed him from the Council chambers. He barely recalled making the journey back to his former master's quarters.

"I need to gather Crion's things," Obi-Wan said, pausing at the door.

"After a meal."

"I am really not very hungry …"

"You need to eat something."

There it was again – the master-to-padawan tone that Obi-Wan instinctively could not refuse despite being five years into his knighthood and having an apprentice of his own.

The door slid open. Anakin sat on the couch, strangely still and obviously deep in thought.

"Is something wrong Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Crion sent me a message." He shrugged. "I think Obi-Wan needs to listen to it, especially to the end."

Qui-Gon offered Obi-Wan a slight smile, nodding toward the communications consol as he steered Anakin away. "I will go prepare something to eat."

Obi-Wan sat at the communications consol for a moment before activating the transmission. Even though it had only been a couple of days, there was something instantly reassuring about seeing Crion well.

"_Hi Skywalker."_

Crion sighed, reaching a hand up to massage the back of his neck. Obi-Wan instantly recognized the telltale signs of exhaustion clinging to his apprentice.

"You need sleep, Padawan," he murmured.

"_So, I am sure Obi-Wan has already told you that I met my father. He's sort of an obsessive control freak who has had a little too much time and money on his hands, which basically means I won't be back for a while."_

Crion glanced away, probably toward the door to the room.

"_My father is allowing me to contact friends but not my master so you are going to have to let him know I am alive, in one piece and all that. And I need you to take care of Master … I know you will. I don't know, maybe let him help you with katas and sparring … mouth off and be a little irreverent and tell him it's from me."_

Crion laughed light, stopping to take a deep breath. His expression changed to a bit more stern.

"_I still expect you to stay out of trouble, Brat. The padawan rumor mill is going to be working overtime. Bror will say it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. He may even say that I betrayed Master Obi-Wan to be with my father. That's not true. I am here to protect my Master, and Master Qui-Gon and Master Yoda. Ignore anyone who says otherwise. I've never cared about my reputation and you shouldn't care about it either. I promise to wipe the floor with you when I get back if I hear of you fighting."_

A smile broke through the stern façade as he added one final thought.

"_Here's hoping to see you sooner rather than later."_

Obi-Wan allowed himself a smile, pleased that Anakin had thought to share even the small message of a friend with him. He reached to turn off the transmission, pausing when he noticed it had not ended.

Crion sat there, deliberation heavy in his eyes as he fingered the sleeve of his robe. The signs of hesitancy were slight. Finally, he seemed to make his decision.

"_You know, Anakin. He is not what I was expecting. It's almost like he's afraid I won't buy into the whole father-son thing and reject him. He's confident one minute – backtracking the next."_

The teenager slid down in his chair a little, crossing his arms across his chest as his brow furrowed in thought. The whole tone of his message seemed to change.

"_Maybe he's been planning this for so long that he's not sure what to do with me now that he has me here. We've already butt heads. I guess that's to be expected with what I've heard about him and with me being … well me._

"Always your own toughest critic, Padawan," Obi-Wan said softly. "You're easier to get along with than you think."

"_I could use my master's wisdom right now. I spent the whole trip here meditating and have a feeling I will be doing a lot more of it."_

"Trust in the Force," Obi-Wan murmured softly, pleased and proud that Crion was already seeking its guidance. The boy glanced back toward the door.

"_I should say goodbye now."_

The message ended this time. After the meal being forced on him, Obi-Wan decided that he would pack up Crion's belongings. He would giving the reassurance and wisdom Crion and reached out for and hide it well within the package.

He was suddenly aware of Anakin standing behind him. One of the boys lop-sided grins tugged at his lips. "He calls me Skywalker or Brat – never Anakin. It sounded like he started to someone else … I thought he might … I don't know."

"Thank you, Anakin," Obi-Wan answered.


	24. Chapter 24

So sorry to be so long in posting an update. I am a teacher and this semester has been incredibly busy so far.

**Chapter 24**

Crion tipped his head forward against the side of the shower stall allowing jets of hot water to beat down on shoulders still stiff from the trip to Telos. While he had often watched his master sit in the same spot without moving for hours, such contentment with being still was something he had not yet achieved. Idleness definitely did not suit him. He hoped he would have freedom enough for a brisk run around the Offworld grounds or permission to use the gym he had spied during Xanatos' abbreviated tour of the residence. Otherwise, it would take every ounce of Jedi patience he possessed to keep from feeling like a caged animal.

The Jedi padawan shut off the water and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist as he stepped from the shower and started off in search of the "more suitable" clothing Xanatos had mentioned. He paused a moment at the closet door, desperately hoping there was more to choose from than black. As it turned out there was a wide variety to choose from. On the left side were blacks, browns, blues and grays and even some more colorful items were he to feel more adventuresome. On the right side of the closet were cloaks and boots of varying styles and colors. He was suddenly overwhelmed. It occurred to him that he had never actually had to "decide what to wear" before. His daily attire had always been a foregone conclusion.

Crion pushed past the darker colors. Though it would probably make Xanatos' day, he had no desire to be his father's twin. Instead, he chose a pair of brown trousers and a cream-colored shirt – his subtle message that he was still a Jedi. Both fit perfectly, making Crion suspicious of how his father had figured out exactly what his size was. Lastly, he pulled back on his own boots.

The young Jedi looked in the mirror on the closet door. It was the near proper image of a civilian. He needed a haircut as his padawan style was not going to work for his present circumstances. He pushed down a flare of resentment as he fingered the area now lacking his braid.

Crion returned to the sitting room to wait, his attention draw to the shelf full of holos that he had noticed upon first entering the room. One by one he began to activate them. Apparently, he had been quite chubby as a baby. There was plenty of evidence of that. Someone – and he could guess who – seemed to have been obsessed with taking holos of him. There were images of him outside playing, sleeping in his crib, of him as a toddler with chocolate smeared all over this face, and on and on. Xanatos was in some of them, younger of course, but it was surprising how little he had changed in appearance.

At the end of the line, a well-worn pale blue blanket was folded and lying on the shelf. It was incredibly soft to the touch, likely woven from an expensive and very fine yarn. Crion rubbed the fringe between his fingers, wondering if the flare of familiarity was all in his imagination. Of course it was. He had been too young to remember any of this life.

There was one last holo on a shelf above. It was larger than the others and was of a young, frail-looking woman holding him. Xanatos was behind her, his arms draped loosely around her shoulders. Crion's sight stayed transfixed on the young woman. He had never seen an image of his mother before though Qui-Gon had told him much of her bravery and love for him. He could see that quiet determination and love shining in the eyes that looked down at the baby in the image.

Crion suddenly found himself wondering what had gone so terribly wrong. It was becoming clearer that he needed the answer to one basic and complex question – who is Xanatos Marojni. To do that, he decided that he might have to play along for the time being.

A gentle chime rang near the door. Crion answered.

"Evening meal is ready," came Xanatos' voice. "Can you find your way?"

Crion reached out with his senses, picking out his father's presence not too far way.

"Yes, I can find you."

_Time had come to a complete standstill, at least in Xanatos' mind. How long had it been? The evening had started on a note of excitement with Mia announcing that it was time. She was in labor._

_Everything had gone down from there, culminating in him being shoved from the delivery room. Only his concern for the young woman who carried his child had kept him from acting on the indignation he had felt._

_A nearby door slid open and Xanatos looked up quickly, elated to see someone useful – Mia's doctor. He began to probe the emotions hidden behind the professional mask for some clue as to what expect. The former Jedi had not felt Mia or the baby pass away which gave him hope._

"_How is she?" Xanatos clipped impatiently._

"_Mia is stable," the doctor replied in the steady tone._

_It was a tone of voice that reminded Xanatos of the healers in the Jedi temple and brought back unwelcome memories of close calls and of long nights sitting by the bedside of a battered Qui-Gon Jinn. It was a tone that had taught him that 'stable' usually translated into 'barely alive'._

"_We will know more after the next 24 hours and then we can allow you in to see her."_

"_Of course." Xanatos nodded as he reached up to rub tired eyes._

"_There is someone I would like you to meet," the doctor said._

_He went back the door and accepted a squirming bundle from one of the nurses. As the doctor leaned forward to deposit the baby into his arms, Xanatos froze._

"_I really don't know if I should …"_

"_Relax," the doctor chuckled. "You wouldn't be the first terrified new father I have seen. Your son needs you right now. He's been inexplicably fussy since birth."_

_Xanatos accepted the squawking bundle, immediately noting the strong Force presence and small ripples of disturbance the fearful and angry cries were pumping into the Force. "He's Force sensitive," Xanatos murmured in wonder. "He probably senses Mia's distress."_

"_Well, then I will leave him in your capable hands," the doctor said before leaving the pair alone._

"_Shhh," the new father cooed softly. "Your mother is a strong and fierce woman. She will be just fine," he explained more for his benefit than that of his son._

_Xanatos had not had much experience with children. As a Jedi, he had been sent on a few trips with his master to bring infants back to the Temple and quite clearly remembered the annoyance he felt at one of the order's most formidable teams being sent to 'babysit'. Fortunately, Qui-Gon was all too willing to coo and fuss over the small bundles all the way back to the Temple, something which had suited the teenager just fine. Suddenly, he wished he had paid more attention, a sentiment he found more than a little alarming._

_He remembered something about infants needing security and remembered sensing his master's warm soothing through the Force. _

_Xanatos worked to calm his own racing thoughts and emotions. He then eased up on his mental shielding and touched his son's mind, exuding a sense of calm and peace. The crying dulled to soft whimpers before stopping. Xanatos looked down to find a set of sleepy blue eyes struggling to focus on him._

"_That's better, Crion," he said as the baby finally stopped fighting and gave into the sleep that beckoned him._

Xanatos tried to calm racing emotions as he sensed his son approach his private suite, the one place besides his Offworld office where Xanatos spent most his time. He sat down at the table, trying to look casual as he heard Crion knock. A slight wave of his hand opened the door.

Xanatos raised an eyebrow, noting his son's attire. The teenager had chosen to look as much like a Jedi as possible but at least he was in civilian clothes. Tense posture and discrete glances around the room told Xanatos that Crion was orienting himself to his surroundings, acting exactly as Jedi. Unfortunately, his behavior indicated that he was treating dinner as a hostile situation. Xanatos let out a sigh.

"Take off your boots. Make yourself comfortable," the formed Jedi chided. "There is no need for formality here."

"I would have expected to eat in the dining room," Crion said as he pulled off his boots and approached the small table that had been set for two.

"It's too cold for family."

"So, with this large home, you essentially only live in this one suite?" the teenager inquired.

"Yes."

A slight grimace accompanied by a quick furrowing of eyebrows gave Xanatos a sort of unspoken remark. The Jedi in the boy before him still considered his home a tremendous waste of space and wealth.

"Yes, I could happily live in a small apartment, but somehow it doesn't have the same effect when I host other intergalactic businessmen."

"So this is all about maintaining proper illusion," Crion murmured sarcastically.

"We all create proper illusions," Xanatos began. "The Jedi with their detachment from possessions could quite easily live and conduct themselves inhabiting worn out tenements in the lower levels of Coruscant, yet the Temple sits on prime real estate on Coruscant with spires that reach to the clouds. Robes, tunics, lightsabers – all create a necessary persona that commands respect throughout the galaxy."

"Perhaps," Crion said, finally take a place at the table.

"You will need to let the kitchen know some of your favorite meals," Xanatos said as the two began to eat.

"I am grateful for whatever is served," Crion replied with Jedi politeness as though at a banquet hosted by some dignitary.

"Of course you are," Xanatos forced back. "But you do have favorites."

Awkward silence followed as both ate their meals. Xanatos decided he would prefer outright confrontation to the form of silent defiance his son was currently employing. He waited until they had finished eating and then motioned for them to retire to a common area.

"We still know very little about each other and I was hoping we could talk this evening," Xanatos began with uneasiness, knowing he was about to open himself up to attack. "I am sure you have heard some about me already. While I don't believe your master and Master Qui-Gon would blatantly lie to you, I am sure there was a certain amount of bias in what they have told you."

"Bias?" Crion asked with something akin to amusement. "What sort of bias can there be in accounts of a padawan betraying his master or of a former Jedi forcing a 13-year-old boy into slave labor on a mining platform? It either happened or it didn't."

"You would be surprised," Xanatos replied, failing to keep the edge out of his voice. He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to control his temper. "My hope is for us to take a page from Master Jinn's book and live in the moment, leave the past behind us. Do you think it is possible for you to form an objective opinion on me based on the man I have become … not the man I was nearly twenty years ago? That's where bias comes in to play."

"You're not off to a good start," Crion said slowly shaking his head for emphasis. "You have threatened my master and the Order I consider my family … you have forced my hand into coming with you… you have twisted things to your own advantage which sounds pretty much like the Xanatos Marojni I have heard about."

"I had no choice," Xanatos shot back. "What was I to do? Approach a Council that has written me off as fallen … evil … and ask for visitation rights to my son. I can just picture that Council meeting now."

The thought was really quite amusing and infuriating at the same time.

"You didn't even try," Crion accused.

"I know." It was true, Xanatos had to admit. How did he explain that the narrow-minded elite that governed the Jedi order would have refused and he would have lost the element of surprise. There were other temples they could have sent Crion too, places where they could have hidden him. "It was a risk I was unwilling to take … not when I had finally found you."

Crion seemed unconvinced.

"I wasn't the one in the wrong. As far as I am concerned, the Jedi kidnapped and hid you," Xanatos replied with firm honesty. "Besides, I am not accustomed to groveling, especially, when it won't change anything."

"Who knows … some humility might do you good …"

Xanatos tipped his head forward and massaged his temples, breathing in shaky calm. "Trust me – I have had plenty of humiliation in my life. Being bested in a duel by my master after watching him kill my father was humiliating. Standing trial for my crimes on Bandomeer was humiliating. And sitting here groveling for my son's forgiveness and giving an account of my less-than-perfect past while he undoubtedly compares me to the great and perfect Master Kenobi is certainly quite humiliating."

Crion studied him for a moment, flickers of hesitance breaking through stone-faced defiance. Xanatos wasn't sure whether he should be pleased that he had managed to silence the boy. Still, it was likely his son was just regrouping. Sure enough …

"So, what happened after Bandomeer then? Why one moment be obsessed with revenge then the next disappear?"

Xanatos reached to the table between them and activated a holo, one of only two he kept in his private quarters. He remembered the night, at a banquet dancing with Mia, significant because it was the first time he had truly felt something for her and perhaps seen her as more than a pawn. He had found out later that Soren had actually captured the moment, something about seeing his boss actually happy for once.

"True love?" Crion half-laughed. "That's really the answer you are going to go with?"

"I honestly wish I could tell you something like that – that your mother stole my heart away and saved me," Xanatos chuckled, sharing his son's amusement of the sentiment. "The truth of the matter is that life moved on. My enemies smelled blood after Bandomeer. I was in danger of ruin. By the time I had stabilized Offworld, I was deeply involved with your mother and you were on the way."

"May I?" Crion asked as he reached for the unactivated holo resting next to the one of his parents. At Xanatos' nod, he activated the image. Like the other, it was an unstaged and very significant moment Xanatos remembered from his life. He was slumped wearily in a chair. His usually crisp clothing and sleek hair both rumpled and his face was dotted with stubble.

"You look like hell," Crion pointed out.

"That night was hell … one of the longest in my life." A smile curved Xanatos' lips at the sight of the small bundle he held in his arms. "You are probably barely an hour old there. I almost lost both of you that night."

"Did you love my mother?"

"Yes," Xanatos answered without hesitation, aware of strong emotion leaking through his shields. "But I don't think I understood that, or even what love was at the time. That understanding didn't come until I had lost you both."

"Qui-Gon said that she ran away because she feared for me."

"You mother was witness to one of my darker moments," Xanatos began hesitantly. "I had just found out she was expecting. An enemy of mine sent assassins after us. I used … questionable means to get information from them before I ended their lives."

"You tortured them …"

"I did what I had to in order to protect you and your mother," Xanatos ground out unapologetically. "And I would do it again to protect you."

Crion glanced away, obviously not pleased with his father's proclamation.

"Your mother became fearful after she found out you were Force sensitive. She didn't want me to teach you to be like me," Xanatos continued, breaking eye contact. He was already bearing his soul. What was one more confession? "The more distant she grew, the tighter I reigned her in. She took you and ran, but I found her. After that, I made sure she was watched and under control at all times. I was terrified of losing you both. However, your mother was a remarkably intelligent and resourceful woman - something I loved and admired about her. She ran again. I followed her trail but it eventually it grew cold and you were both gone."

The room descended into silence again. Crion was heavily shielded, giving Xanatos no sense of his thoughts or feelings. He wasn't quite ready to look his son in the eyes.

"Thank you for agreeing to dinner," Xanatos said softly. "The rest of the evening is yours."

"What areas are off limits?"

"None," Xanatos replied. "This is your home. As long as you don't leave, you are free to go anywhere."

"Thank you," Crion replied with an informal nod before heading toward the door.

"Crion," Xanatos called, finally making eye contact again. "Your mother once told me that she hoped you would be the best of both of us. She would be both delighted and proud to see the young man you have become."


	25. Chapter 25

Charisasori - It is too bad that the Council and Xanatos can't come to an understanding (like that's going to happen) as the situation could really get out of control.

**Chapter 25**

It was probably the sloppiest framing job ever done – a youngling could have done better. Paste, which would most assuredly dry in lumps, oozed out from beneath the uneven edges of a piece of flimsi covering the back of the frame. Obi-Wan looked down at what was likely the shoddiest piece of craftsmanship he had ever seen with satisfaction. It would definitely capture his meticulously neat padawan's attention.

The Jedi master flipped the frame around and took one last glance at the painting inside. Crion had given it to him as a lifeday gift, remembering his master's fondness of the gentle landscapes of Reta III on a mission there. From what Anakin had told him, Crion had spent a great amount of his saved up credits having the painting professionally set in a quality frame. Obi-Wan stole a glance over at that frame, now resting empty on the floor. Hopefully, Crion would understand.

Obi-Wan sensed Qui-Gon approaching his quarters. It appeared his timing had been perfect.

"Come in," he called before the door even chimed.

The door swished open and Qui-Gon entered as Obi-Wan set the painting down on some packing material and began to wrap it, something that didn't go unnoticed.

"It looks like your parcel is just about ready, then," Qui-Gon hinted in a tone of voice that sounded like he wanted to say more.

"I am just adding the final item," Obi-Wan answered.

"I can see that." Qui-Gon's lips twisted into a slight frown before he abandoned his subtlety. "You love that painting. Don't you think Crion will wonder why you have sent it back to him?"

"I am counting on it." Obi-Wan began to close up the small shipping crate.

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. "And just what are you up to?"

Obi-Wan couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. Was it an un-Jedi-like sentiment to be proud of one's own cleverness?

"I am simply trying to communicate with my apprentice. I have hidden a handwritten letter in the back of that frame." Obi-Wan paused, resting his hands on the now sealed crate. "I want him to know I haven't abandoned him."

"You need not be concerned that he will think that."

"I know." Obi-Wan shrugged his shoulders in an uncertain gesture he hadn't displayed since still a padawan. "Perhaps it is more that I feel helpless and I had to do something." Obi-Wan let out a slight chuckle. "I worry about him …"

Obi-Wan's comlink chimed. He paused mid sentence, calling the device to his hand. Perhaps the Council had news for him. "Kenobi," he answered.

"Master Kenobi," a young padawan answered. "The Chancellor's office has just contacted the Temple and it seems the Chancellor has requested an audience with you."

"Go ahead and schedule an appointment," Obi-Wan replied, raising an eyebrow toward his master.

"But, Master Kenobi, Chancellor Palpatine would like to see you immediately."

"Inform his office that I am on my way." Obi-Wan shut of his comlink and paused, directing a questioning glance toward his master. "I wonder what he wants."

"Anakin went to see him today. Perhaps he told Chancellor Palpatine what has happened."

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan murmured.

"I will send this off while you go," Qui-Gon said, gaining a nod in response.

* * *

Palpatine sat, elbows resting on his desk and his chin resting on folded hands. The latest news from Anakin had given him much to contemplate. His musings were interrupted by the warmth and light in the Force that was Jedi master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

It was repulsive the one individual could so cling to the Light.

"The Chancellor will see you now," Palpatine heard his young receptionist say from the other room.

The politician looked up as Kenobi entered, pasting a quite genuine-looking smile on his face as he stood. "Ah, Master Kenobi. I am glad you could come on such short notice and at such a late hour. Please have a seat."

"Your Excellency." Obi-Wan bowed before taking the seat offered. "What can I do for you?"

Palpatine sat down, taking a brief moment to study his guest. Though the Jedi's shields were strong, overt suspicion radiated through the young man's aura. Palpatine might have worried that Kenobi suspected something if it weren't for Anakin's endless prattle concerning the Jedi master's distrust of politicians. Palpatine didn't blame him. He didn't trust politicians either, and it only spoke volumes of the Jedi's growing reputation for wisdom in one so young.

"I regret that we have not spoken more since Naboo," Palpatine finally offered kindly. True, they had not spoken, but Palpatine had watched the young knight as closely as he had watched Anakin. "What you did for my people in dispatching that creature …"

"I was doing nothing more than my duty … no more than any Jedi …"

"Nonsense, my young friend."

Kenobi's humility was intriguing. Defeating Maul was no easily task and according to Anakin, the young knight had even earned the moniker of "Sith killer" among his Jedi brethren. Yet he continued to shun the praise and consider it duty.

Palpatine found himself watching the young man again, contemplating how the Force hummed around him, almost protectively like a mother watching over a dear child. The Light sensed what he was even if the Jedi before him didn't.

The first Jedi to kill a Sith in a millennium, indeed. Kenobi was skilled and powerful in the Force. He had been an obvious choice, a more than deserving replacement for Maul, yet Palpatine had found no leverage to gain influence over him. Whereas Anakin had flocked to his attention and praise, Kenobi had graciously declined audiences, pointing to his master's health, and then the newly-minted knight had all but disappeared on a continuous string of missions.

"Are you well, You Excellency?"

Palpatine cursed beneath his breath, he had allowed himself to become lost in thought. He had once considered the man sitting before him incorruptible, completely devoted to the Light and the Jedi Order. He knew that Kenobi would have to be turned or die – the dark side insisted on it. And now, after years of finding no weakness, no chink in the Jedi's armor, he had a means.

"Forgive me. It has been a long day. I will get to the purpose of why I asked you here."

Kenobi couldn't have looked more pleased.

"Anakin has alerted me to the status of your apprentice. The poor boy was quite distraught, concerned about both you and a friend he obviously holds in high regard."

"Crion and Anakin have become close over the past few years." Obi-Wan reached up and massaged his temples, the first sign that he was not as composed internally as the infuriating Jedi façade would suggest. The very mention of his current situation seemed to weaken him. Weariness seeped from the young man's continence, frustration and worry flowing into the Force in one continuous breath. Palpatine wondered if even the Council sensed the fragility that now rested behind those shields.

"I am sorry if Anakin has bothered you," Kenobi offered politely.

"It is no bother." Palpatine offered his best warm smile. "In fact, I would like to help if I can."

"I am not sure there is much you can do, Your Excellency," Obi-Wan said grimly. "I do not know what Anakin has told you, but the Council has presented the situation to several attorneys. It is difficult to get around the legal fact that my apprentice was taken in by the Order as a small child without his father's knowledge and consent."

"But Anakin suggested that the boy was in danger."

"Yes, but it is the sort of danger that would be hard to prove in the courts. We have his mother's testimony recorded that she feared for her life, and that is it." The Jedi knight let out a resigned sigh. "The main reason the Jedi took him in was out of concern that his father would train him in the Dark side of the Force. It is hard to build a case on moral danger."

"Dark." Palpatine feigned ignorance, for he knew the dark side very well. "I seem to remember that in association with that creature you destroyed on Naboo."

"Yes, the Sith are of the Dark side of the Force," Kenobi replied.

"Oh my! Is your apprentice in danger of becoming like that thing?"

The words that seemed hastily spoken had been carefully crafted and were meant to be a weapon. A slight grimace on the young man's face was the only evidence that they had been effective, stabbing and twisting like a shiv.

"He is strong and I have trained him well in the short time he has been an apprentice, but he is still an impressionable boy who has much to learn before he is ready to face the Dark side."

"Believe me when I say that I shall do all that I can. It is the least I can do after all you have done for my homeworld," Palpatine assured him, reaching across the desk to rest his hand on the Jedi's. "I have access to some of the best legal minds in the galaxy. Send me what you have and we shall see what they can make of it. "

"Any help is greatly appreciated," Kenobi answered almost numbly, quickly pulling his hand away as he stood to offer a stiff bow. "Thank you."

"You are quite welcome."

The fatherly concern on the Sith lord's face bled into a malicious grin as the Jedi left. Kenobi was obviously ill at ease with accepting a favor from the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. However, desperation and grief had flawed his usual wisdom. It was very unfortunate … for him.

* * *

Bare footed on the training mat, Crion took in a deep breath as he sought out focus and clarity. A brisk run across the Offworld estate had been a welcome relief. Fresh air, full of the scents of life was always a welcome change to the over-scrubbed, recirculated feel of the Coruscanti atmosphere. He only wished his master were here with him to share in the beauty Telos had to offer.

With another deep breath, he ignited his saber. He needed to continue to train so as to not fall too far behind. Force only knew how much he would have to make up when he returned to the Temple. He might set a record for the oldest padawan in Jedi history.

The first steps through the kata – those he had worked on with his master - were simple and well practiced. He then proceeded into the more unfamiliar, feeling the first twinges of frustration as he misstepped. The next steps came too close together. He nearly tripped himself but quickly gained his footing and composure.

"That wasn't my best – back to the beginning," he murmured to himself as he assumed the opening stance again.

He began once more, trying to block out a presence that was becoming annoying familiar as he roughly worked though the steps and finally ended with a shaky hold on his focus.

"It's a new kata for you?" Xanatos asked.

"What was your first clue?" Crion bit back.

"Ah, the sarcasm is back. And here, I thought we had made some progress over dinner."

Crion shot him an icy look, earning a resigned sigh.

"I would like to help," Xanatos offered, hands stretched in a gesture of surrender. "Remember, I did have to master all of this at one time."

Crion closed his eyes, trying to block out the distraction as he took the opening stance yet again.

"You wouldn't want to be too far behind when you return to the Temple after your eighteenth life day."

Crion's eyes snapped open, disbelief apparently etched on his face. It earned a chuckle from his father.

"I would have to question whether you were really my son if you hadn't picked out that particular loophole," Xanatos said. "I assume it was the only reason you agreed to come – that you could put up with me for two years if you had to?"

"Why go through all this trouble to only have me here for two years?"

"I only want the chance to get to know you."

The desperation was truly beginning to wear on Crion's nerves. "I can't decide if you really care or if you are just plain delusional."

"Or maybe both," Xanatos offered nonchalantly. "But now I have a question for you."

"What?"

"Can you defend yourself?"

The attack came quickly, Xanatos lunging forward with a powerful downward stroke of his saber. Crion barely had time to defend.

"Not fair," the teen ground out. "You gave me no warning."

Crion pushed back twinges of fear at recognizing the paler beam of a saber on a low setting. It wasn't a true attack. Still, he found the crimson glow unsettling.

"The enemy is not always going to fight fair," Xanatos said sternly as he rained down blow after blow. His style was aggressive and efficient, something which didn't surprise Crion.

The Jedi padawan allowed himself to be backed across the floor. A casual observer might judge him to be on the losing end of the battle already, but Obi-Wan had schooled him well in the art of giving up ground and waiting for a duel to come around to his advantage. Obi-Wan had trained him in endurance and patience. Everyone eventually made a mistake, especially those who were overconfident.

Crion used the time to study his opponent. In all actuality, it reminded him of dueling Anakin – a more mature and less impulsive version. In fact, he welcomed the challenge of training against someone without Jedi reserve. Only a few times had he seen it in the Temple, his master against Master Windu and again against Master Vos.

The duel continued, father backing son across the floor.

"Do you ever attack?" Xanatos finally asked, clearly annoyed at the monotony.

A smile tugged at Crion's lips. He could go on like this for hours.

"Only when it benefits me," Crion ground out as their sabers met, sizzling and sparking against each other. "Usually right at the end – which means you've already lost."

"Is that so?" Xanatos asked, using a Force push to distance himself from his son.

The push sent Crion into the padded wall. He reached for his saber and began to get up only to pause, a grin tugging at his lips. Instead of rejoining the fight, he laid down on the ground still and waited.

Footsteps first stalked him cautiously. "I didn't push you that hard." Uncertainty colored his father's tones.

Xanatos came a little bit closer, but Crion stayed perfectly still.

Crion?"

The Jedi remained silent. He sensed a spike in anxiety and heard a saber disengage and fall before hurried footsteps closed the distance between them. As his father neared, Crion kicked out and scissored Xanatos' legs, dropping his opponent to the ground. In a flash, Crion rolled to his feet, the tip of his saber at his father's throat.

"Never let your guard down," Crion said in very deliberate tones.

"Does that little trick usually work for you?" Xanatos spat out in irritation.

"Only once," Crion boasted.

"It's hardly fair."

"The enemy is not always going to fight fair," Crion spouted back smugly.

Xanatos paused for a moment before laughing, something that surprised Crion. "So true."

The former Jedi got to his feet, reaching up to rub where his head had made contact with the mat. "It's late and I am still buried under a pile of reports. I will leave you to your katas and hope for a _fair_ rematch soon."

Xanatos offered a bow. Crion hesitated before returning the bow.

"Good night, Son."

Xanatos departed through the door leaving Crion with a gnawing sense of unease. Was is simply the thrill of the challenge or had he actually enjoyed his father's company. Was he losing himself? Was this all a part of Xanatos' greater plan to win him over?

As he hurried back to his room, Crion decided to meditate on his next course of action. He needed to heed his own advice and not let his guard down again.


	26. Chapter 26

Charisasori – Things are about to get rocky. Hopefully father and son can work together for the better.

NefariousPlots – Thanks

not paranoid enough – The story is Xanatos and Crion centered, but we will be getting back to Obi-Wan and will be seeing more of Anakin in the future.

**Chapter 26**

It had been a good week, Xanatos reflected. But the lucrative deal he had just closed was minor compared to the satisfaction he had experienced in learning more about his son. He had spent every meal with Crion, not wanting to miss the opportunity to sit and talk. In addition, Xanatos had been thrilled that his son had taken him up on his offer of help with his training. The evenings spent with father and son sparring were exactly as Xanatos had often imagined they would be when Crion was still a baby.

In fact, the week had been so perfect that it left Xanatos wondering when reality would finally rear its ugly head and the façade crumble. It was inevitable. Crion was being tremendously patient with him … just as a Jedi padawan was trained to deal with a difficult politician.

Xanatos chimed before entering his son's quarters. Afternoon meal had been delivered on schedule. Crion was already sitting at the table, hunched over a datapad. It was probably the lessons a tutor had sent over earlier in the day.

"What do you think of the study material?"

"Boring," Crion grumbled.

"Studies aren't always meant to be interesting …"

"Perhaps childish is a better description," Crion quickly amended. "Childish … easy … not stimulating … mastered it a long, long time ago."

"I get the point," Xanatos replied, taking a seat across from his son.

Crion glanced away briefly, and Xanatos waited for the question he knew was coming. "Master Obi-Wan will probably include my lessons in the parcel he is sending. Would you allow me continue with those?"

"It would probably be for the best," Xanatos relented after a moment's thought. The education he had received in the Temple had certainly been more than adequate. "Or maybe I should just bring you to the office and put you to work."

"The family business?" Crion snorted. "It would be more worthwhile than this," he said as he shut off the datapad and took a sip from his glass.

That was the first glimpse Xanatos caught of the bottle of amber-colored liquid sitting on the table next to his son. "What's that?" he asked.

"Something I picked up on Patul." Crion pushed the bottle towards his father. "Would you like some?"

Xanatos picked up the bottle and took a sniff. It was familiar to him – a cheap home brew sold on the streets of Patul. He wrinkled his nose and set the bottle down before studying his son.

"You don't approve?" Crion asked.

"Of this cheap crap – no. If you want to have a drink, I can bring us something suitable from my quarters …"

The long, drawn out sigh and shake of Crion's head informed Xanatos that he had just miserably failed whatever test his son had set out for him.

"I don't believe it," Crion huffed.

The patronizing tone nipped at Xanatos, but he did his best to ignore it. "What don't you believe?" Xanatos inquired pleasantly.

"Are you even trying to be a father?"

"I thought I had made that clear," Xanatos ground out.

"Do you know what my master would do if he caught me drinking?"

"I can't say I really care," Xanatos bit back, dropping all pretense of diplomacy. He didn't appreciate being manipulated, especially by his teenaged son. "I am your father, and I happen to believe that if you are mature enough to wield the Force and carry one of the deadliest weapons known to the galaxy, you might just be mature enough to have an occasional drink."

"So, it doesn't matter to you that me drinking is illegal on Telos." Crion spun his glass in a circle on the table. "Then again, your past actions would suggest you don't have that much respect for the law in the first place."

Xanatos stood and walked toward the window, squelching the quick flare of anger. With his back to his son, he contemplated how to best handle the obvious baiting. A smile crept over his lips as he pulled out his comlink.

"Soren?"

"Yes," came his assistant's voice.

"Contact the groundskeeper and tell him my son will be at his disposal for the day." Xanatos glanced at his son. "I expect Crion to be put to work. He will be at the east exit of the residence in fifteen minutes."

Making his way back toward his son, Xanatos leaned forward, planted his palms firmly on the table. "I am not sure what game you are trying to play, Crion, but rest assured you will lose."

The gaze reflected back at him held barely veiled defiance and something else Xanatos couldn't quite identify.

"You best change your clothes. Try to keep as covered as possible. It is summer her and you will burn to a crisp if you aren't careful."

"Yes, Sir," Crion said with a nod of the head before retreating to his room. Something about the boy's casual acceptance left Xanatos wondering if he had still somehow been manipulated into doing exactly what Crion wanted.

* * *

Obi-Wan was immediately ushered into the Council chambers soon after being summoned. He stood in the middle, silently waiting to be acknowledged by the twelve beings that studied him with serious expressions.

"A mission we have for you," Yoda said.

Obi-Wan reigned in his surprise, taking a deep breath before he answered, "It was my understanding that I had been removed from the mission rotation."

"We are not any happier with this than you are, Obi-Wan," Mace answered. "We would not have asked you here except that Chancellor Palpatine has asked personally for your involvement."

Obi-Wan let out a sigh, trying to reign in his frustration. It was a given that the chancellor would eventually call in a favor, but he had not expected it to be so soon.

"What is my mission?" he asked with resignation.

"The daughter of a powerful family in Coruscant has gone missing. The family would obviously like to keep this discrete but are gravely concerned for her safety."

"Do we have any leads?" Obi-Wan asked. Kidnapping was an obvious possibility.

"What we know is included in your briefing information. You will have time to review it before you leave in the morning," Mace replied. "The girl was traced to Kyatn IV by bounty hunters hired by her family, but they have not been able to find her."

"Last I heard, Jedi were not exactly welcome on Kyatn IV," Obi-Wan said, raising an eyebrow. The planet, located in the Outer Rim, was ruled by criminal elements that had no love for the Republic or its keepers of peace.

"Careful you must be to not allow anyone to discern your true identity," Yoda admonished.

"I will be."

Obi-Wan exited the Council chambers and found Qui-Gon sitting on a bench waiting for him.

"Anakin told me you had been called before the Council," he said as he stood and fell into step next to his former apprentice. "Any good news by chance?"

"Not unless you consider being sent on a mission to Kyatn IV good news," Obi-Wan answered.

Qui-Gon abruptly stopped. "You were taken out of mission rotation."

"And apparently, Chancellor Palpatine has already called in a favor."

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"I will see you for evening meal then," Qui-Gon said. He rested a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder before turning and heading back towards the Council chambers.

A smile tugged at Obi-Wan's lips as he continued to his quarters. He suspected the Council was going to be dealing with a quite livid Qui-Gon Jinn.

* * *

Dusk was fast approaching when Xanatos finally decided to check on his son. Crion was kneeled down planting a row of bright purple turat flowers. Sweat plastered his hair to the back of his neck. He paused for a moment to sit back on his heels and wipe a grimy arm across his brow.

Approaching, Xanatos stopped beside Crion and squatted down next to his son. He extended the glass of ice water he had brought.

"Thanks," Crion mumbled.

"According to my groundskeeper, you're quite knowledgeable about gardening."

Crion shrugged. "Master Qui-Gon actually has taught me quite a bit … after I killed his osara flowers while on disciplinary duty."

"So you work in the gardens often?"

"I've had practice." A smile twisted the boy's lips. "Much to my master's dismay, I have learned more about gardening than keeping my mouth shut."

"You should get washed up for evening meal," Xanatos said with a chuckle.

"I should finish planting this last row."

Xanatos glanced down the row of unplanted flowers, estimating his son still had at least an hour of work left. It was more time than he wanted to lose. He dropped down to his knees and started to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. "So what are we doing here?"

"We?" Crion asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You act as though I have never worked a hard day in my life." Xanatos laughed lightly. "I am no stranger to the disciplinary methods of inventive Jedi masters."

"I am just worried you might mess up your manicure."

"Do you want help or not?" A smile tugged at Xanatos' lips. Crion wasn't the only master manipulator in the family. "Did I mention that a parcel came from you … your personal items from the temple?"

There was a sudden flash of eagerness in Crion's eyes before his face morphed back into defiance. Apparently, he hated being manipulated as much as his father did.

"The roots are delicate," Crion said. "Be careful and just do what I do."


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Somehow Crion had managed to strike a balance between appearing over eager and consuming his evening meal at a faster than normal pace, though he wasn't sure why he bothered. His father seemed as eager to see his personal items as he was, and Crion was certain he would not be opening his parcel in private. Sure enough, Xanatos trailed him to his quarters where a simple parcel was sitting on the table in the sitting room. Crion sat down on the sofa, quickly brushing his hands down his trousers.

"I am surprised you aren't tearing into it," Xanatos quipped.

"I was actually hoping for some privacy," Crion snapped back. "A certain person in this room doesn't seem to know the meaning of the word."

Xanatos simply quirked an eyebrow before sinking down to the sofa next to him. Crion contemplated being stubborn and refusing to open the parcel until he was granted privacy, but Xanatos knew as well as he did that Crion wanted to open it more than anything.

"Fine," Crion breathed out as he cracked open the seal on the small crate.

The item on top immediately caught his attention. He picked up the painting, immediately remembering his master's fondness of the gentle plains on Reta III. It had been one of their few actual "routine" missions, meaning that nothing had gone wrong, no one had been injured, and they had actually taken leave and enjoyed the Retan wilderness. There was a brief sting of hurt that Obi-Wan had returned such a well-loved lifeday gift. Was it a message that his master was disappointed in him?

"Where is that?"

"Reta III," Crion answered. "I went there on a mission with Master Obi-Wan two years ago."

"Something so lovely deserves a better frame." Xanatos hesitated before adding. "I know a couple of artisans who could create something very unique."

Crion squelched a sudden flare of irritation. He had spent three months worth of allowance on this frame … for his father to criticize ... wait, the color was wrong. Crion flipped over the painting, grimacing at the sloppy globs of dried paste.

"If there is sentimental value attached to this frame, I understand …"

"No." Crion beamed a bright smile. His master knew him too well. There was something hidden in the truly atrocious frame. And he had sacrificed one of his most prized possessions to hide it. Crion blinked back the sting of tears. "I would appreciate finding a more suitable home for this. It is very special."

Crion sat the painting aside, and reached in to find his few possessions. The Jedi had little. What they kept was usually, though meager, brimming with meaning. There was a puzzle box filled with an assortment of trinkets collected to remember certain missions. He sat that next to the painting and found the awards he had earned from saber competitions.

"Wow."

Crion turned his head, sparing a glance to Xanatos. His father's whispered word had been breathed out reverently.

"This is no small feat," Xanatos added proudly.

"Master Obi-Wan has trained me well," Crion answered, giving credit where credit was due. "Though, I have never figured out why we have tournaments. Competion - winning – it all seems to go against Jedi ideas of humility."

"I see nothing wrong with recognizing hard work and achievement."

"Maybe."

Crion pulled out a collection of datachips in a small box. "These would be my lessons," he murmured as he set them aside. All that remained were his collection of holos. A few were of him and Obi-Wan, taken on various missions. There was another of him and Keyan after a recent saber tournament – a rare time when both had been at the Temple together. The next was of him and Sienn in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. He had to laugh. The holo captured them well. She stood behind him, arms wrapped around him, chin resting on his shoulder. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, and if memory served, her next course of action had been to pull him, fully clothed, into the pond behind them. He let out a laugh. Force – he missed her.

"She's very beautiful." Crion groaned. He had almost forgotten Xanatos was there. "You two look happy together."

"We're friends – nothing more," Crion said in an even tone, hastily shutting off the holo.

"There is no need to be defensive about caring for her," Xanatos chided. "I am not your master or the Council, and I happen to believe there is nothing wrong with loving and caring for someone else."

Crion bit back the retort on his lips. He didn't want to argue with Xanatos. He wanted his father to leave so that he could find out what was hidden in the painting. One holo remained. Crion flipped the switch. A grin twisted his lips as he looked at his master standing next to him. Beside them was Anakin. Qui-Gon stood behind him, hands resting on the boy's shoulders. It was a family portrait of sorts … missing one person, Crion realized.

"I should go and leave you alone to arrange your things," Xanatos said in a strained voice as he hastily stood and started to leave.

"Goodnight," Crion said.

His father paused at the door and turned back for a moment. "Goodnight."

Crion waited until he was certain his father's presence was retreating. He quickly fumbled to pick up the painting his master had sent. His fingers found a shiv and gently placed it under the flimsi backing. Once he had cut it open, he reached inside and pulled out a folded letter. Crion opened the folded pages, warmth rushing through him as he caught sight of his master's neat, elegant handwriting.

_Padawan,_

_I received your message. It was very clever of you to hide a message to me in a message to Anakin, and quite miraculous that Anakin realized it was for me._

Crion breathed a sigh of relief. Anakin had not failed him.

_I am afraid that I must first play the part of the fussy and nagging master. Your first priority should be to take care of yourself. Make sure you are eating well and getting adequate sleep. Should you return to me in declined health, I am afraid I will be forced to leave you at Bant's mercy and forbid her to tell you stories about me._

A chuckle escaped Crion's lips. He truly missed his master's odd humor.

_I imagine your father is quite confused. Qui-Gon spoke often with your mother while she was still alive. Though considerably misguided, it seems your father truly does love you. That you are butting heads does not surprise me in the least. According to Qui-Gon, Xanatos is a stubborn man, accustomed to having his every order obeyed. You, my young padawan, are likely his match if the grey hair at my temples is any indication (seriously, though I would not consider myself vain, to see so much grey at 30 standard years is a bit disconcerting. I truly hope you can leave your father equally grey). However, should your father choose to look through the stubbornness and bluster of a mouth that has seen its fair share of soap, he will see a poised, self-controlled, and devoted young man that I have had the pleasure of training for the last three years._

Crion felt his throat tighten and his eyes begin to sting.

_It is unfortunate that you have had to face this challenge at such a young age. Part of me says that you are not ready, yet I must trust the Force's timing. What wisdom do I have to impart on you at this time?_

_- Hold fast to your training and to the Light even when you may see darkness._

_- Your instincts are good, Padawan. Trust your instincts and do what you feel is right._

_- __ALWAYS remember that you are never alone. The Force is your ally. Trust it above all else._

_Now as I close this letter, I have decided that giving you over to the Force's care may be one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I think that I would rather be back on Naboo fighting for my life and facing my own inner darkness._

_Please know that I am fighting to bring you home. Your room will remain ready and a training salle reserved for your return._

_May the Force be with you, Padawan._

_Master Obi-Wan_

Crion clutched the letter to his chest and began to look around for a safe place to stash it away. He knew he would read it over many times in the coming days. The activities of the day, working in the hot sun, and now the emotional toll of the evening weighed on him. Too tired to reach his room, Crion kicked off his boots and stretched out on the sofa, soon falling into a deep, content sleep.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Kyatn IV was barren and desolate – not unlike Bandomeer had been when he was thirteen years old, Obi-Wan noted. Years of mining had scarred the landscape. The residents scraped by using whatever means possible. The criminal world was firmly in control. From what Obi-Wan had read, most on this world would consider ridding the galaxy of a Jedi a service – a cheerful thought. He would need to be careful.

Obi-Wan made his way down the landing ramp. The ship he had traveled to Kyatn IV on was nondescript – barely functional by uppity Core World standards, but it was just the piece of junk spacers in this part of the galaxy favored. His appearance too fit the picture. He wore dark brown leather pants tucked into his usual boots, a loose white tunic, and a long worn leather coat to complete the image. A dual holster with twin blasters hung low on his hips – purely show. His lightsaber was hidden in a concealed pocket of his coat.

Cantinas were usually the best place to obtain the sort of information he needed. Obi-Wan studied the streets that snaked out from the hangar, quickly surveying his options. An impatient tug on his coat caused Obi-Wan to look down. A young girl – she couldn't have been more than eight standard years – held her palm outstretched pinning him down with the largest, most pitiful brown eyes he had seen in years. The child was dirty, dressed in tattered clothing. Her sunken features betrayed that adequate food was a luxury to her.

"Hello, there," he said softly, disguising his accent. His usual cultured tones would immediately betray him as a Core Worlder. "And what is your name?"

The girl shoved her open palm into his face indicating she had no desire for friendly chat.

"Ah … name first, Young One."

She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

"Nija," the girl said before she shoved her hand forward again, roughly.

Obi-Wan reached into his coat and placed a few credits in her outstretched hand. She closed her hand around the meager treasure and scampered away. A sigh escaped the Jedi's lips as he watched the small girl disappear into a nearby building. It was doubtful she would actually receive the benefit of anything he gave. Then again, it was just as likely she would be punished if she did not bring in enough income.

The shift in the Force was subtle, a mere prickling along his consciousness. Someone had taken interest in him and was watching him. It seemed that a simple act of compassion, so rare in this part of the galaxy, might have drawn unwanted attention. Qui-Gon would be so proud, Obi-Wan thought with a wry smirk. He continued to listen to the Force, sensing a trap forming.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Crion," he murmured to the air. He imagined his apprentice would have responded with something along the lines of, "I would love, for once, to actually go on a mission where you don't have a bad feeling, Master."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, seeking focus. His apprentice was light years away, and while he felt more vulnerable alone than he would care to admit without Crion at his side, conversing with an imaginary padawan served no purpose.

* * *

From the reception area, Crion could see that his father's office door was open, and he could hear two people talking inside – Xanatos, of course, and a sultry feminine voice. Stepping closer to the door, Crion chose a position that allowed him to catch a reflection of the inside of the office in a nearby mirror. He concentrated and listened closely, imagining that any moment his master would appear and chide him for frivolously using the Force to spy. His father and a beautiful blonde woman were intently studying datapads. Mostly they spoke in legal terms that meant little to Crion. Every once in a while, the woman would brush her hair out or her face or give the close-cropped locks a shake, but she didn't appear to be flirting. He stepped away as she stood to leave and appeared to act casual. She stopped in front of him as she exited the office, and Crion added tall to his description.

"Your father would like for you to stop eavesdropping and join him in his office," she said with a smile.

Crion breathed out a curse as she continued on her way. Yes, his master would have chastised for similar behavior, but for some reason he felt like he had just been slapped.

He took a deep breath and turned the corner, making his way into the office. Xanatos didn't look up from whatever he was reading, but said, "Have a seat," and motioned to a large, cushioned chair across from his desk. Xanatos continued to read his datapad. While it irritated Crion to not be acknowledged, he could be patient.

"It has occurred to me that you know next to nothing about what Offworld is," Xanatos said after a moment.

"It's a mining company, isn't it?" Crion quickly shot back.

Xanatos let out a deep sigh. "Let me rephrase … you know next to nothing about what I do, so I thought that today you might shadow me."

"It beats landscaping." Crion hid a smirk as Xanatos coughed, obviously trying to stay serious and keep from laughing. Crion leaned back slightly in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. It was actually something his master did, a posture that made him appear more interested and less threatening while at the same time maintaining a calm, confident veneer. "So, what exactly is it that you do … I mean, besides spending your morning conversing with beautiful blondes?"

At this, Xanatos did let out a chuckle as he continued to peruse a datapad. "I assume you mean Dryn."

"The woman who just left?"

"Dryn is my lead attorney," Xanatos explained.

"Ah, beautiful and smart … or at least I assume smart …"

Crion felt a certain amount of satisfaction when his father finally laid the datapad down. Xanatos raised an eyebrow as he took in his son's posture, and then he leaned back in his chair, copying his son.

"Dryn is indeed a beautiful woman. However, I learned long ago not to become intimately involved with colleagues or employees - not that it would be your business even if I was involved with my attorney. As for her intelligence, let's just say that I have far fewer legal problems than my competitors. She also helped me greatly in my case to gain custody of you."

"I'll be sure to thank her the next time I see her," Crion murmured dryly.

"As much as I would love to sit here all morning and listen while you take out your frustrations on my attorney's character, we do have work to do," Xanatos reminded him.

"Okay, so enlighten me," Crion offered with thinly veiled sarcasm.

"I usually spend my mornings reviewing reports and signing off on what needs my attention," Xanatos began. "Since I am certain you don't want to sit here and watch me read, I thought I would give you a chance to dig into what Offworld is. You have a data terminal over there …"

"And I am sure you have carefully chosen what I can see …"

"You have full access," Xanatos replied. "If you run into a problem – something you cannot access - let me know."

"Full access?"

"I have nothing to hide from you, Son." Crion studied his father for a moment, sensing no deception. "We have an afternoon meeting … a potential joint venture I have been working on for several months. It might be informative for you sit in on the meeting."

"Does this partner know I'll be there?"

"I don't need his permission for my son to sit in on a meeting," Xanatos said as he picked up the discarded datapad.

"Well, I think I'll look through the database and see what you are up to."

As Crion sat down at the datapad, he found himself wishing his friend Keyan was with him. There had to be uncovered tracks somewhere, and Keyan was a whiz with data systems. Then again, it didn't appear that his father made mistakes. As he started searching through current business associates, he felt a slight tremor in the Force – something his master might call a bad feeling, and Crion wondered what it meant for his day.

* * *

Obi-Wan had been to many difficult places in his time as a Jedi – Nar Shaddaa, Tatooine. Kyatn IV threatened to be every bit as difficult. Beings were suspicious, unwilling to part with carefully guarded information. What little he had gleaned had been hard won, the result of suggestion and his natural ability to set others at ease.

The Force spiked with warning as he stepped into a crowded side alley on his way to yet another cantina.

"Stop, Jedi," commanded a voice from somewhere above him.

Obi-Wan looked up to a balcony where the cloaked figure he remembered from earlier stood, a blaster trained on him.

"A Jedi would be very foolish to come here," Obi-Wan said, projecting an air of casual calm as he made note of others hidden nearby – five in total. Bystanders were obeying the unspoken command to leave the area, and it was soon only him standing in the alley, surrounded.

"Then you are very foolish, Master Kenobi," the man replied as he dropped the hood of his cloak. The man was older, judging by his sparse, graying hair. His face was leathered and heavily scarred, betraying a harsh life. There was no doubt he was dangerous, and what was most disturbing to Obi-Wan was that he exuded a sense of confidence, even when facing down a Jedi master. "Surrender. You have my word that my men will not harm you. My orders are to take you alive."

Obi-Wan quickly called his saber from his coat as he sensed blasters take aim at him. Before he could ignite the blade, however, the man lifted a small form into view and pressed a blaster firmly against her head. Nija's intense fear suddenly flooded the Force.

"Let the girl go," Obi-Wan called. "She's an innocent."

"I think I'll keep her with me," the man sneered. "I need the reassurance. I have no doubt you can best me and my men, Jedi, but it would take someone a little more cold-hearted to stand there and watch a child die."

"Like you?"

"The choice is yours," the man countered. Obi-Wan could sense those that surrounded him closing in, climbing down from their hiding spots. Equally, he could sense that his adversary would not hesitate to kill the young girl. "Toss your weapon down. Like I said, my employer wants you alive."

"And you'll let the girl go?"

"Cross my heart …" the man said with a crooked grin as he started down the stairs, girl in tow. He squatted down at the bottom of the stairs. "When she gets half way to you, roll your weapon to me."

There was the mistake Obi-Wan had been looking for. If the girl hurried once he rolled his saber away, he would have time to call his weapon back to him and escape. It was all a matter of timing.

The girl made a step forward, blaster still trained on her. "Slowly," the man said.

"That's it. Come on, Nija," Obi-Wan urged.

"Weapon," the man barked impatiently.

Obi-Wan let out a deep sigh. The trap remained. There was something he was missing – an element he wasn't taking into consideration, but he had no clear indication from the Force what that might be. He had little choice. With resignation, he dropped his saber to the ground, swiftly pulling the girl towards him with the Force. A jumble of fear and anxiety, she jumped into his arms and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. She was shaking.

"Shhh," Obi-Wan soothed as he reached out to call his weapon back to him.

"S … sorry," the girl whispered between sobs.

"It's not your fault? It will be okay," he promised.

He felt a sharp prick in his neck, then liquid fire flowed into his veins.

"He said he'd hurt mommy." The girl sobbed as Obi-Wan dropped to his knees and released her from his hold. His mind was rapidly growing foggy – a sedative – but more than that. The fire burned, leaving cold in its path, robbing him of the warmth of the Force.

As he slumped forward, unconsciousness claiming him, Obi-Wan sent off two messages he was certain would not be received.

"Crion … Master … help."

* * *

As best he could tell, his father never stopped. They were returning to his office for an afternoon meeting, yet Xanatos was on his comlink as they moved along. Crion wondered if Xanatos had always been this driven. Not for the first time he found himself wondering what his father had been like as a Jedi apprentice.

The Force changed, a subtle shift in the tension Crion had felt all morning. It sent a shiver down his spine. He paused.

"Is something wrong?" Xanatos asked.

"I have a bad feeling … about something," Crion murmured. "In the Force …"

"Do you wish to return to your quarters?" Xanatos asked. "It isn't necessary for you to be here."

"I'll be fine …"

"Mr. Marojni," a loud booming voice called from across the room. "It's good to finally meet in person."

"It is," Xanatos voiced, though he sounded distorted to Crion, like he was underwater. "This is my son, Crion."

"Pleased to meet you," Crion murmured, suddenly feeling nauseous. The room began to spin as a crescendo of warning overtook him in the Force.

"Crion?" Xanatos asked, his muted and muddled voice full of alarm.

_Does he feel it also?_

It was the last thought Crion was aware of before a powerful surge of the Force ripped through his shields. He passed out and promptly fell to the floor.


End file.
